


Of Corpse You Did

by Rhaeluna



Category: Disney - All Media Types, Frozen (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ambiguous Genitals, Body Horror, Comedy, Crime Family, Crimes & Criminals, Dark Comedy, Drama & Romance, Dramedy, F/F, Horror, Oral Sex, Redemption, Resurrection, Sibling Incest, Sister-Sister Relationship, Sister/Sister Incest, Spooky, Zombie Apocalypse, Zombieland Saga meets The Godfather, Zombies, but with incest lesbians, cute sex, don!Elsa, zombie fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2020-06-26 05:43:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 33,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19761772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhaeluna/pseuds/Rhaeluna
Summary: Mafioso Elsa and Anna die and become sentient zombies because they're too thirsty for each other. Then the world ends.





	1. Snowmen & Syndicates

**Author's Note:**

> New longfic, hopefully. Spooky dark comedy incoming!  
> It might get sexy later; will update content rating as needed.
> 
> Thank you v kindly to [Cani](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanITellUSmThin) for the beta!
> 
> [2019 Edit: This fic was conceptualized and written before Frozen 2 came out, just FYI.]

Elsa Arendelle drew a hand across her forehead and wiped her sweat into the silk of her black suit pants. Her clothes were already covered in dirt and blood, so she figured it didn’t matter. With a grunt she heaved a lumpy bag onto her makeshift ritual slab. Above her loomed the night sky. Elsa coughed and lifted her moldy spellbook close enough to read by the candlelight. 108 candles; check. A blade cast in antiquity; check. Elsa absently ran her free hand over the heavy, bulging bag as her eyes flicked out over the roof of Arendelle manor. The mortal remains of the deceased; check.

Elsa knew what she was doing. Of course she did. She had everything in place, right? Sure, she was trusting an ancient, grody grimoire from her family’s sordid history but she’d cross referenced enough to be 98% sure she wasn’t about to accidentally summon Satan. Maybe. 

The mess she was in started, as it often did, with her sister. For the second decade of her life Elsa barely even remembered having such a relation. If she dug deep she could unearth faint hallucinations of a pair of children playing in the snow, their hair colors and complexions as different as fire and ice. Dreams, she’d been convinced. Fairy tales. Elsa’s actual childhood began in earnest with pain and everything before had faded like pre-war photographs.

It had been snowing. On her eighth birthday the family chauffeur arrived at Elsa’s school partway through the day and took her home. “Where’s Anna?” Elsa had asked, but the woman in the Cadillac’s driver seat hadn’t deigned to reply. They drove into Arendelle territory and through the wrought iron gates of her family’s ancestral home, the purple and green crocus insignia emblazoned upon tapestries, archways and clothing, all in tense silence. Her father, a tall, mustached man with a cruel smile and dark eyes, met them at the door. Elsa shook hands and he led her into the basement.

She hadn’t been allowed down before; her mother said that dad was just touchy about his model trains. She’d lied. Chained to the wall in the soundproofed room was a fat, slobbish white man with a burlap sack over his head and a swastika tattooed on his left bicep. Agnarr Arendelle handed his daughter a 9mm Glock sidearm and pushed her gently towards the prisoner. “We’re not bad people, Elsa,” he said, “but sometimes we do bad things for what’s right. For family.” He settled firm hands on her trembling shoulders. “And if you’re going to lead this family someday, I have to do a bad thing. The unthinkable. I have to deprive you of a proper childhood.” His next words were nearly silent. “I’m sorry.” 

Time passed in clouds. Elsa cried and struggled, screamed and bled. Words were exchanged, promises. She left the basement with dark eyes, a single round missing from the gun’s clip. 

Elsa didn’t see Anna again for years. She slept alone, ate alone, cried alone. After a month she stopped asking about her, then after six she’d forgotten Anna existed. The smiling, rosy-cheeked redhead girl she’d played cards and sat up late with had disappeared into mist. No more hot cocoa, no more Yuletides spent decorating a tree. When they finally reunited it was at their parents’ funeral--an accident at sea--and Elsa looked far older than her 20 years. Tattoos of ice, blood, and family covered every inch of her skin below the neck, most cut across with scars. 

“You probably don’t remember me,” a short, chubby redhead said to Elsa after the wake. She wore a black dress and was drinking whiskey from a plastic cup. Elsa stood behind the gothic funeral home in her black three piece, a cigarette in her lips and a scowl in her heart. She looked into the girl’s eyes and saw a freedom she hadn’t tasted since her youngest days. Anna’s freckles still covered her entire face. Her full lips drew Elsa in like a vacuum.

“I don’t, really,” Elsa said as she stamped out her smoke, “but I know who you are.” 

Anna’s eyes grew red with wet. “Good. I’m glad.”

Elsa took her sister’s cheeks in her palms and kissed her, sneaking her tongue into her mouth before stepping away. She’d done it on impulse, a foolhardy gesture that only she could get away with. “Welcome back to the family,” Elsa said. “Can I buy you a drink and we can catch up?”

Anna wiped her mouth and raised an eyebrow at her. “I was hoping you’d ask.”

Two days later Elsa was addicted. They told their life stories over drinks, over food, while in the bathrooms at restaurants. Anna had been in hiding under a false name with a false family, training to fight as rigorously as Elsa trained to lead. She could disassemble a Winchester 1905 with a blindfold on. Her soft appearance betrayed a raw, intoxicating strength. Elsa asked Anna to bench her and was not disappointed.

“It was rigorous, but my teachers were kind and let me go to school, have friends,” Anna said as she played with a ringlet of Elsa’s hair over coffee. “Look at you, though, how many years has it been since you’ve tasted a normal life?”

Elsa crossed her arms. “I’m not sure such a thing exists.”

Anna chuckled. “Well boy do I have a lot to show you, then.”

The sisters snuck into movies. They walked through parks and got milkshakes. Elsa learned that Anna had been living in a hotel and insisted that she move into the bedroom across from her own. They lounged in their pajamas until the wee hours of the morning, stealing guilty, bashful glances and talking about their parents, the world, their fashion styles.

The acting don, a gnarled old aunt by the name of Ursula, laid into Elsa with every meeting she missed, every financial shake-down she wasn’t a part of. “You’re not queen yet, you little fool,” Ursula had said. “You still have a lot to learn about running this empire. Keep your head in the game, you hear me?” 

They shared their first real kiss drunkenly at a party following a successful real estate cash-out. Both cried as their lips touched. A month later Anna swore her life to Elsa as her consigliere, bodyguard, and confidant. The girls sealed their pact in love, lust, and matching crocus tattoos.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” Elsa said through post-coital tears, her sister clinging to her side. “You’ve doomed yourself like our father doomed me.”

Anna kissed her way up to Elsa’s neck. Their bed sheets stank of love and alcohol. “Oh, Elsa,” she sighed, “we were always doomed.”

Months passed, and Elsa was the happiest she’d been in years. She felt loved. Her heart swelled at the sight of her Anna, at the knowledge that she had something, someone beyond herself to live for. Ursula wasn’t happy, course. “You two are sick, you hear me?” She boomed at them after a meeting with their financial officers. “What would your parents think of you? What about your heirs?”

Elsa collapsed into bed still fully dressed. “I’m afraid she’s going to turn on us,” she said. “Ursula and our father were close.” 

Anna kicked off her heels and followed Elsa into the pile of blankets. “She doesn’t have a claim, though. You’re rightful heir.”

“We’ll just have to prove we’re still capable.”

But it didn’t matter how much sleep Elsa lost expanding her family’s territory. Ursula was never satisfied. And one day, on the sixth of June, the acting don had a man in her pocket gun Anna down across the street from the manor. Elsa was in Europe. By the time she’d flown back her sister was buried. “You should be thanking me,” Ursula howled as Elsa dragged her, arms and legs bound in wire, to the manor basement. “I’ve cured you, you little bitch! You whore! Incest, faggottry! You’re a mark upon the Arendelle name, you are!” Elsa silenced her cries with sixteen rounds to the head and chest.

The don ascended the stairs. She adjusted her tie. Her eyes were red. It’d been a week since she’d slept. “While I’ve been abroad,” she said to Hans--a lieutenant--as she handed him her smoking pistol, “have you done what I’ve asked?”

Hans smiled, jovial, and leaned in close to Elsa’s ear. “I’ve identified everyone left who’s loyal to Ursula. Their numbers are small but fierce.” 

Elsa nodded and tugged on a fresh pair of white gloves. “Deal with them. Make an example.” Hans grunted in affirmation. “When you’re done, bring me their bodies.” She was going to need the spare parts. “And Hans,” Elsa stared through him, “if you continue to conspire against me I’ll have you drawn and quartered in front of your family. The Boogeyman hates you, he’d relish the order.”

Elsa took the reigns of her parents’ empire, alone. Corruption, embezzlement, extortion, racketeering, laundering, forgery, murder, counterfeiting, smuggling. Her heart swirled with acid. Good people died at her hands by no fault of their own.

Elsa’s fingers trembled as she unzipped the body bag laid out over the altar. Anna’s preserved face, blue with death, stared out at her. She could almost look alive in her fine green dress and hair pins. The don bit her lower lip and drew blood. The wind howled. 

The manor was empty that night save her guards and driver. Her captains were at work, grumbling over Elsa’s refusal to assign another consigliere in Anna’s absence. Scar was shaking down the local corporate offices for protection fees while Gothel blackmailed their crooked real estate friends that had recently tried to push them out. She had the Boogeyman out far, hunting the odd white supremacist or cartel branch that dared to try and encroach upon her territory. Keeping busy, making money.

She’d found the grimoire in her father’s library, a holdover from when the Arendelles had been true aristocracy instead of crime lords. At first she’d thought it a fake, but her father had been ruthless in his efficiency and she doubted old Agnarr would have kept such a thing unless it held real value. A few quick tests proved her right and opened her soul again to hope. Anna’s body sat in the center of the casting circle, almost whole save the stitched up bullet wounds across her torso and head and the stolen organs Elsa had used to fix up her innards. The runes had been written in blood. Six red diamonds, each two pounds in weight, sat at the corners of a hexagram. Splashes of sea water, dashes of herbs. Crystals, antlers, stardust. The clouds rolled heavy with rain.

Elsa set down the book and lifted the obsidian athame to her palm. Even in the candlelight she was pale. A sting of pain. Red flowed freely but the don took care not to let it dribble onto Anna.

Elsa let the blood pool in her cupped hands and fought back her nerves.

She was crazy. She was doing something evil. No, don’t hesitate. Anna was the best thing that ever happened to you, fool. As if it would even work. Necromancy? No way. No one should have that kind of power. Idiot, idiot, murderer.

You shouldn’t have brought her into this life.

Elsa swallowed air. She saw Anna twirling in her dress, her smile brilliant in the morning sunshine on the lagoon. The don’s hands cracked open and blood spilled onto Anna’s chest, staining her silks. Elsa stilled.

A minute passed. Nothing. Elsa began to feel stinging in her hand from the cut. She began to feel fury, despair, nails.

Anna convulsed. Elsa startled back. The corpse inhaled a deep, sputtering breath and launched forwards where it sat, eyes open wide. It looked up at Elsa and screamed. The sound was like breaking glass bowls.

Elsa shrieked in fear and surprise and stepped back too far. The roof of Arendelle manor was immense, but it wasn’t made for strolling. She slipped on the backwards incline, wet from rain. Elsa felt her soul leave her body. She watched as she fell on her back on the tile and rolled end-over-end down the curve of the roof and off the side. She landed, four stories down, on her neck with a muffled CRACK.

Anna stopped screaming.

“Oh, shit.”


	2. Wacky Waving Inflatable Physics Engine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to [Cani](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanITellUSmThin) for beta-ing!

“Fuck!”

Anna lurched forward. She found herself flailing and clattering to the floor like a pile of sticks where she’d expected to abscond gracefully from the stone she sat upon. Roof tiling met her cheek. Dazed, she blinked and tried to lick her lips. What?

Heavy storm clouds rolled in the night sky above. Dots of candle flame lit the dim manor roof. She’d definitely leaned on her hand. Anna swore she did, she could feel it! The girl sputtered and cracked her neck turning her head towards the pedestal. Her hand was still there. Only, for some strange reason, it was severed from her now-handless stump of an arm, loose black strings trailing between the mummified wounds where they’d once connected. Anna gagged. Her vision swam, but no bile pumped up into her throat. Nothing felt right.

She was cold, and it wasn’t just the evening air and her light clothing. Her skin was clammy, unnaturally so, and had taken on a deathly shade of blue. She pushed down on her palm with a finger to move her blood around, but it didn’t flow back into place. It just sort of stuck. Congealed.

Then Anna remembered the flash of lights and pain running the length of her body like oceanic faults. She’d died. She clenched her jaw as she froze up in dread. Elsa had been in Germany overseeing a new partnership, all calm smiles and painfully sexy suits. Anna was strolling towards home when a Cadillac hopped the curb and slammed into her ankles. The bones shattered on impact and Anna flew through the air like a ninja star before breaking her face on cement. It hurt like nothing else. A goon appeared at her side and filled her with bullet holes. She died from blood loss and head trauma 17 seconds later.

She was dead. “Holy shit.” She’d been dead. Oh god, what was she now? If Anna still had a heartbeat it would have been thundering. And Elsa--oh, Elsa. 

Anna dragged her sewn-together body to the edge of the roof and glanced down. Elsa lay in the grass, neck visibly broken in the gloom. “Seriously?” Anna heaved herself onto her knees--she realized from the feel of them that the shattered bone had been replaced with steel--and wobbled. “Whoa there, put those ballet lessons to work, girl.” She raised her arms for balance. Her body felt like gelatin escaping the fridge. How could a corpse still move? Magic?

Anna fought for equilibrium against the tides of gravity and lost. “Son of a--”

She stumbled and fell backwards with a clang. More metal, replacement bone? Momentum carried her weight down the side of the roof and rolled her over the edge. The threads binding her stump to her loose hand snapped. Anna screamed. Her voice sounded oddly deeper, she thought, as she plummeted to an inevitable second death.

She hit the wet soil with a thud. Her whole body stung, but not nearly as much as it should have. Anna pried herself up and shook away double vision. No, that definitely should have killed her again. Could she die twice? 

Her individual vertebrae cracked as she craned her neck to look back up at the roof. “Oh, gross.” Anna groaned and cursed God, the world, and herself. She’d never felt so discombobulated in her life. Her shoulder sockets felt like metal cogs. Her legs moved like rusty backhoe arms. The buzzing noise of life that had once filled the squishy bits between her ears was gone, as was her heartbeat, her breath. No, she was very definitely still dead, but she’d somehow regained her consciousness. She was exorbitantly happy that her sister hadn’t found it in her heart to cremate her into sentient dust. 

Elsa lay beside her on the lawn. Her neck lay at an odd angle and her eyes were glassy with death. Pale blue had begun creeping into her icy white skin tone. “You beautiful fool, what did you do?”

Well, Anna thought with a huff, whatever Elsa had done to her she could certainly return the favor. She could decide whether undeath was a blessing or a curse later, first she needed to get her sister talking again. She definitely wasn’t allowed to die until she’d explained herself. Silly. Anna smirked. How long had she been out, anyways? Months? Years? Even in recent death Elsa still looked young and beautiful; it couldn’t have been terribly long. She caressed her cheek with her one remaining hand. “Hold tight, babe, I’ll jimmy something.” 

Anna looted Elsa’s pockets and came up with bunk. Didn’t she keep notes? Undead zombie notes? Maybe the candles and rock she woke up around had something to do with it, but how was she going to get back up there? The manor was notoriously well guarded. It wasn’t like she could go up to the butler for a chat anymore. “Hi, I’m Anna Arendelle, I’m definitely dead but also still alive somehow so please don’t shoot me!” 

Muffled voices snuck around the side of the house. Anna froze. “I definitely heard a scream, man,” a baritone sounding guard said.

Anna cursed her own excellent security and grabbed Elsa by the ankle. She dragged her through the grass towards the rhododendrons lining the exterior manor wall. Her sister’s head twisted and spazzed as it moved. “Fucking come on!” Elsa flopped like a ragdoll as Anna hid her behind a shrub. Two large guards in black clothing snuck around the corner, automatic weapons raised.

“Nothing here either. Weird. Hey,” one of them said, “you really don’t think I have a chance with him?”

“Come on man, he’s scum. Don’t.”

The first guard scoffed. “Not the support I was looking for, dude.”

They crept past Anna’s hiding place, sweeping the perimeter. She waited to breathe until they’d rounded the next corner. “Hiding in my own house,” she mumbled. 

There was no way she was getting back to the roof. It was four floors up and past all the personal security she herself had implemented. Could her new legs even climb stairs? Big questions. 

Anna was fidgeting with a lock of Elsa’s hair when the solution came to her. It dawned, strangely, that she could still feel her hand. It was right where she’d left it on the roof. Tentatively, Anna tried to move a finger. It twitched and she nearly yelped. She immediately began thinking about the applications of removing her head and carrying it around with her. Creepy, but...no, wait until Elsa’s back. Just. Anna shook her head. Just get her back, panic later.

With mounting bravery, Anna felt for her disembodied phillanges and groped for anything that might be nearby. A stick? No. Wait, was that a candle? Felt hot. Oh, oh! Exploring fingers brushed the leather binding of a thick, heavy tome. If she was going to bet on one thing to bring off the roof with her missing hand, it had to be the book.

Anna spent the better part of half an hour gritting her teeth and nudging the heavy pages towards where she estimated the slope of the roof ought to be. She was rewarded when her hand tipped over the edge and bonked her fleshily on the head. The tome landed in the bush.

Anna searched Elsa again and found the needles she’d passed over before. Fighting revulsion, she sewed her missing hand back onto her wrist. It wasn’t too different from dressing wounds, really, only less like the human body and more like rough fabric. After she finished, Anna flexed her fingers, minding them warily as if they might suddenly come alive and strangle her. They didn’t. She flipped through the book. Fantastical illustrations of monsters, spells, and components filled the pages. Anna groaned. She’d been expecting radical, zany science. Had Elsa really brought her back with dark magic? “Seriously?” If she wasn’t going to hell for murder and organized crime the evil spells were definitely the last straw. Anna flipped to a dog-eared page covered in sticky notes. It was the thickest part of the book. The scrawlings appeared to be a ritual, complete with incantations and a list of materials. She squinted to read the small writing in the gloom. Elsa’s handwritten notes and elegant stickies surrounded it with ideas and creative solutions for some of the more esoteric items.

Strangely, there wasn’t anything about casting on a roof at night. “You just had to be dramatic with it, didn’t you, Elsie?” It dawned on Anna that the stone table she’d awoken on resembled quite closely the authentic Gaelic waystone that their mother had stolen and smuggled back from Europe. Did all the materials need to be so grandiose? She double checked the details.

No, Anna was definitely right! Taking out the pomp of the thing, one only needed a small collection of cheap items, the runes, and the corpse of the fallen to fulfill the resurrection ritual. 

For the first time since she’d returned to life, a dry humor filled Anna’s lungs. “This is so fucking stupid.” She closed the book and nodded to herself. “But it’s also pretty neat. You got me, Elsa!”

Time to go shopping. 

-o-

Anna adjusted the paper shopping bag on her head. Even through the circular holes she’d cut, the fluorescent lights of the 24-hour mall blared so bright she had to squint. Thankfully there weren’t too many folks about to stare given the hour.

Anna had waited for a break in the guard surveillance route before high tailing to the manor’s external car garage. She found the spare set of keys buried in the potted eucalyptus outside the door. Anna ran on knobby, dead legs back to the bush where she’d stashed Elsa and dragged her sister’s still-flopping corpse across the grass and into the garage. Anna grabbed the keys for the Porsche 911 Carrera 3.2 without thinking. The luggage situation was a little more involved: Anna spent 10 minutes stuffing her jelly-like sister into the trunk after failing to fit her in the miniscule space behind the front seat. She had to fold the don’s limbs a few times, sexy beanpole that she was. Anna nabbed her berry-pink leather riding jacket from the wall and a black pair of leather gloves for her hands. Combined with the dress she’d been buried in, Anna covered every inch of exposed skin save her neck and head. She was still working on that, and she smelled awful to boot.

Anna had to re-acquaint herself with driving given her wobbly, imprecise feet. She didn’t dare attempt any of the flashy stunts she’d used to woo Elsa on gloomy days. The whole endeavor felt like she’d had gum stuck between her cogs. Her fingers were stiff. Acceleration was different, like the muscles she’d once used to rev the engine couldn’t figure out how to pull up on the pedal. It wasn’t impossible, though. She was out of the garage and through the iron Arendelle gates before the guard even knew she was gone. She prayed the staff assumed Elsa was out for Dairy Queen.

Anna removed the page of the grimoire containing the ritual instructions and she parked close to the mall doors. For the smell she’d just have to walk fast, but her head--well. Ideas were scarce. On impulse Anna stepped out of the car and grabbed the first paper bag that tumbled through the wind and against her leg. “Even if I told you, Elsa, you’d never believe me,” she said as she poked eye-holes in the pliant material.

Anna struggled not to fidget as she strode through the mall dressed as the world’s most awkward party guest. Whenever someone got too close she veered off, hoping against hope they didn’t pick up the scent of decay. Anna let her guard soften as she walked past the aromatic food court. She smelled fatty, carb-heavy food wafting by but found it didn’t make her hungry. She probably couldn’t even get hungry anymore. Anna was going to miss paninis. 

The map kiosk guided her through. On the far side of the mall she found a spiritual shop tucked away like a hidden cookie jar. It was open late like all good establishments were. The door jingled when Anna hobbled in. A blast of thick incense smacked her upside the chin and she wiped relief from her forehead. If her scent wasn’t masked, at least it would fit right in. 

A scruffy, wizened skeleton of a woman stood at the counter with eyes like saucers. “Hey, no bums!” she screeched.

Anna bristled. “I’m not a bum! I just need some stuff, okay?” 

The old woman stepped out into the throughway and gave Anna a once over. Her arms were as thin as toothpicks. “This isn’t a dispensary, kid. And why have you got a bag on your head?”

“Uh, well.” Anna stumbled, then remembered her green dress. “I was at a party, and my friends drew some crass pictures on my cheeks and forehead.”

“Yeah? Let me see!” The woman’s fingers grasped like sewing needles. 

Anna stepped back and raised her gloved hands. “No, it's really offensive. I’m not comfortable with anyone seeing!”

The woman scoffed. “Fine! First weirdo I get all night and you’re not even willing to entertain. Well, what do you want?”

Anna resisted the urge to bite back and instead checked her notes. “108 candles, an athame that’s at least 2,000 years old, six red rocks that each weigh two pounds, some sea water, thyme, peppermint, a pair of antlers, whatever cheap crystals you have lying about, and some, uh.” Anna bit her lip. “Stardust. Whatever that is.”

The woman nodded curtly and grinned. “Big spender, eh? Kronk!” she shouted towards the back of the store. “Customer! Get out here!” 

Anna hid in the corner of the shop and tried to make herself as small as possible as a massive, lumbering man with a gladiator smile appeared and began gathering her things. “Hey, uh, does it smell funny here today Yzma?” Anna shivered with fear.

Yzma threw her hands in the air. “Funny? Funny how?”

Kronk scrunched his nose and sniffed. “Like dead funny. Dead stuff.” 

“You idiot, we work in witchcraft, everything smells like dead stuff!”

To Anna’s relief Kronk shrugged and dipped behind a shelf to grab a pair of antlers. The air around her vibrated with tension. When it came time to pay Anna swiped her card and grabbed her bag without a look at the cost.

“Ohoho, please come again!” Yzma called as Anna bolted out the door, her heart eerily silent in her breast. She idly wondered how badly she’d just been swindled. 

Anna tugged the bag off her head as she stomped through the parking lot with her new gear. She gently nestled it at the foot of the passenger seat and slammed the driver’s side door. Anna wailed to herself. Her new voice sounded ghastly and uncomfortably deep. 

“Damn it, Elsa!” She glared daggers into the rear view mirror. “Look at what you’ve gotten us into! I’m going to have so many words for you when you can hear me again!” And she would hear her again. Without fail. Anna wasn’t going to let her sister die, and certainly not so stupidly.

Anna ignited the Porche’s heart with a thrum and sped towards the highway. She would head north into the night and stop at the first national park she could find. She’d only been alive again for a little under two hours.


	3. Raggedy Ann Reunion

One moment, Elsa was falling. Her body tumbled through cold night air and collided with the ground. Everything went dark. A figure of light emerged from the shadow like a plume of smoke. It caressed Elsa’s cheek with a hand made from bone and tree bark. She wasn’t afraid; the feelings that filled her heart were contentment, finality. Sixteen wings of white fire flapped behind the spectre’s eerie form. Elsa stepped forward, but the thing pushed her away. A crack formed high above them, blue and red and yellow like berry ice cream.

“Not yet, little dearie,” the figure said. Elsa swore it sounded bemused. 

A moment later she came to in the woods. Her neck felt sore. Orange rays of dawn broke over the canopy of evergreens. Elsa smelled dirt and candle wax swirling like memories of chocolate and vanilla cocoa. Birds chirped between nests and flitted into the distant sky; dozens of them were fleeing her location. Why? Oh, Elsa realized, it was because she was screaming.

Her throat burned raw. “Hey, hey!” Cool hands jostled her shoulders and a familiar face appeared. Bluer, and with some bits of skin missing, but familiar all the same. Her eyes in particular were cloudier than Elsa remembered. “It’s cool, you’re cool!” 

Elsa’s screams silenced. “Anna?” Oh god. Her voice sounded like a frog’s croak escaping withered lungs. She tried to sit up but her limbs were heavy and cumbersome. She itched everywhere and couldn’t seem to feel her own heartbeat. A dream? Memory returned to her slowly: the ritual, the fall. It had worked, the strange magic was true to its written word! Candles and all! The figure she’d met when she died was gone, erased from memory. She didn’t notice its absence.

Elsa sat up on a mossy rock in the woods. She dry sobbed with joy. “Anna, you’re alive! It worked, it--” Her head didn’t follow her into a sitting position. With a slight crack it slung over and behind her neck, hanging by the flesh and muscle of skin and broken vertebrae.

Anna screamed. Elsa screamed. Even more birds flew away.

“My head, my fucking head!!” The world was upside-down. She flailed and almost fell off the stone slab.

“Here, here, hold still!” Anna slapped Elsa’s spazzing arms away and reached over her throat to grab her head. She pulled it up and clunked the vertebrae back together, then removed her hands. For a short, blissful second Elsa’s head balanced on her neck. Then her vision fell forward and her forehead bumped against the front of her suit, lolling like a pendulum.

Elsa wailed in terror. “I’m dead! Oh my god, it’s the end!” 

“Hush, darling!” Anna said. She poked at Elsa’s swinging skull. “What would you do without me?”

Elsa whimpered. “Raise the dead?” She wanted to cry but her eyes remained dry. Where was her steely don persona when she needed her? That’s just what Anna did, she supposed--undressed her, made her vulnerable. Took away the callous layers to reveal her gooey center.

“Well yeah, but you'd also find an early grave!” A shift in the wind silenced them. “Well, I mean.” 

Elsa smirked despite herself. “Pun intended?”

“Of course not. Hold still.”

Elsa heard a crack and suddenly she was being lifted up again. She bit her lip and remained quiet. The grimoire said that zombies couldn’t die easily, but they could still feel some pain; she’d just never expected to be the one dealing with the consequences of her magical attempts. Anna gripped a broken piece of deer antler and held a long, serrated knife. “Sorry if this hurts.” With a few swift cuts she’d severed the undead dangling muscle holding Elsa’s head to her body. It burned, but that was all. She really was dead, wasn’t she? It was taking a few seconds to sink in. Shame about her neck tattoos. Her head came free and plopped into her lap. Anna picked her up gingerly and turned her around in her hands with a smirk. “Look at you, Elsa, trying to get ahead in life.”

Elsa’s body crossed its arms and huffed. “That one was definitely intentional. Please fix me.” 

[](https://photos.google.com/share/AF1QipNiMDhQulPqUV02m78hrZXblx70eeRvqsiakWlpscr5PejfRFgEvus6RCfXrk7d6g?key=dF9GYVI4Wkh2QWwwUkxuWnJPVElwaHFKdWxXQWdB&source=ctrlq.org)

Anna giggled. “Yes, your majesty.” She shoved half the stick of antler down Elsa’s throat. The flesh was dried and taut enough that it stuck no problem. With a grunt she brought Elsa down on the antler’s pointy end. She stepped away, and Elsa remained upright. Elsa wanted to sigh but unfortunately found she couldn’t do that, either.

A makeshift spine might do that. Anna tore a sheet of fabric off the bottom of her dusty dress and wrapped it around Elsa’s neck. She tied it in a nice bow, tight and secure. “There. Now you can see and no one will be the wiser.”

Elsa closed her hands around her throat. Her neck was blooded and stiffer, but with some effort she could once again turn her head, although her range of movement was far worse than it once was. She closed her eyes and counted to ten.

“You good?” Anna asked.

Elsa smiled despite her discomfort. “I think so.” She found Anna’s gaze. “I can’t believe it worked.” For the first time in months she felt a rush of joy. It was liquid lightning. She leaned in to kiss Anna’s forehead but the girl shoved her back and glared at her. Elsa balked. 

“Elsa Arendelle, what the fuck were you thinking bringing me back to life with eldritch voodoo magic?” she yelled. “Are you off your rocker!?” 

Elsa felt slapped. “I--I, uh, Anna--”

“No, don’t you get all puppy eyed!” She wiggled her finger in Elsa’s face. “You’ve fucked with things you wasn’t meant to fuck with! And now look at us! We’re dead! Kind of!” 

Elsa slumped. They were in fact, dead. She’d never meant to die in the process of bringing Anna back, of giving her another chance at life. She wouldn’t have died at all if it wasn’t for Elsa. She bit her lip. It should have bled. What the fuck was she thinking? What would she do about her criminal empire? She’d assumed she’d be able to explain away Anna, but herself, too? No. No, she’d doomed them again. 

The sun rose higher in the morning sky and a beam of pink light shone upon her sister’s red, brilliant hair. Even in death it looked like fire. Elsa grumbled and wrapped her arms around her shoulders. She whined, low and afraid.

“I’m sorry,” she said. Anna relaxed immediately. “I’m so sorry, Anna. You’re right, I had no idea what I was doing. I just...” Elsa whimpered. “You can’t know what it was like without you. Alone in a cruel, merciless underworld.” She shut her eyes. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t. I missed you so much.” 

Anna wrapped her arms around Elsa in a fierce hug. “I’m so sorry, Elsie.” Her words were softer, understanding. “I know it must have been impossible. I know. And I’m sorry for dying.” 

Elsa nestled into Anna like a koala clinging to its mother. She ground her teeth in her mouth and sobbed without tears. The chilly morning forest was silent around them. “I’m so sorry.”

-o-

Elsa held Anna’s hand. Her sister lit one of Elsa’s cigarette matches and tossed it onto the pile of stuff spread on a patch of dirt on the forest floor. Candles, dry leaves, herbs, antlers. Objects of magic caught immediately in the warm air and soon the clearing smelled of smoke. The grimoire sat at the top of the pile. Elsa frowned as its ancient pages caught and transformed into ash. The page Anna tore out was tucked between the other sheets.

They spent the better part of an hour in each other’s arms, curled up like kittens in a patch of grass. They shared kisses and soft words. Elsa told Anna the tale of life after her passing. Anna held Elsa tighter when she got to the part about Ursula. Anna’s tale was funnier, and for a few blissful minutes the sisters were smiles and laughter. A shopping bag? Really? Elsa kissed a line up Anna’s neck like she used to, warm with love and relief. Her sister’s skin felt rougher under the touch of her lips, but Anna was still Anna. They spoke of tattoos, of books. Anything but work. Then they spoke of magic.

A tome that could bring back the dead so easily shouldn’t exist. Couldn’t exist. The sisters agreed on what had to be done, but there was a voice in Elsa wishing she’d kept it. She had an empire to run, and it would certainly be convenient to be able to bring her soldiers back to life. It was her father’s voice, understated and cold. “Yes, Elsa,” he said, “exactly. A legion of undying undead fighting for our cause, fighting for good!” She shook it off. His shadow loomed above her at every corner and threatened to drag her deeper into the darkness. Anna squeezed her hand.

“We’re doing the right thing,” Elsa said out loud, more for herself than for Anna.

Anna hummed in reply and poked the blaze with a long stick. She scrunched her nose. “Do you think we eat brains now?”

Elsa reached up and scratched her mended neck. “I don’t think I can eat anything now.” She kept scratching but moved to her arms. 

“Quite true.” Anna sounded huskier than before, like she’d taken a tumble in a dust storm and hadn’t quite aired herself out yet. It was deeply attractive. Elsa’s thoughts wandered as her eyes followed the dancing fire. Anna might have been dead for a bit but she was still sexy. Soft curved, beautiful eyes, brilliant hair. Oh, the things magic could do.

Although… Elsa squinted. Could zombies have sex? Her circumstances gave new meaning to the thought of giving her sister head.

Anna pecked Elsa on the cheek and tugged her towards the Porsche. “Come on, we need to go before your lieutenants tear the manor apart looking for you.”

Elsa stitched her fingers with Anna’s and added a little whine to her voice. “Oh no! You’ll protect me from them, right?”

Anna giggled. “Always.”

The two criminals steered out of the park and back onto the highway, leaving only ash in their wake. Elsa opened the window and stuck her head out of the passenger side. She closed her eyes. Her hair whipped behind her and tangled with the loose fabric of her new neck scarf. Elsa was relieved to find that she could still feel the rushing air. It couldn’t have been later than 6AM. Forests flew past like green waves, interrupted only by the thundering of trucks. The air smelled of dry pine needles.

“Do you have your phone on you?” Anna asked.

“No, it's on my bedside table.”

“Crud.” Anna white knuckled the steering wheel. They accelerated to 90MPH. “Can we talk about what we’re going to do when we get back? Paper bags aren’t going to fool the Family.”

Elsa knew this. She’d been trying to get her head back into the right space to lead since they left. It wasn’t coming though, and her focus on her ambitions and career were as fleeting as snow on a summer’s day. She had Anna back, and the euphoria of that fact far surpassed any obligation she felt to explain herself to her peons. Dying had been Anna’s clean break from crime, and maybe now it could be the same for her. “What if we don’t go back?” 

Anna looked incredulous. “What? You’re kidding, right?” 

Elsa bit her lip. On the other hand, the Family was all she’d known until Anna. “Well. I mean, maybe? We are dead. We could keep being dead.” 

“Um, yeah, but what about everything you’ve worked for?” Anna scowled. “Elsa, what about all the people we killed to get to where we are? What would we be saying about their memory if we just dropped everything and left?” Anna’s features curled with pain and memory. With regret. Fresh guilt salted Elsa’s wounds.

“I hadn’t thought of that.” She stood atop a mountain of corpses. Friends, enemies. Her parents. The scent of rot couldn’t be closer to her heart. Elsa would never have reached so high without them, her fingers scraping the bloodstained sky. Power, wealth, violence.

Anna placed a hand on Elsa’s thigh. “Elsa, I love you and I will follow you into hell, but please think about this.”

Elsa closed her eyes and remembered their first time in bed together. Heat and sweat, moans and gasps. The guilt she felt afterward hit her like a wave breaking over a lighthouse. She’d fucked her sister, sure, but incest wasn’t what tore up her insides. It was the way she’d given in to her feelings and drawn Anna into her world of murder and darkness. She could have turned her away at the funeral, at the manor, asked her to give up the life. But she couldn’t. She wanted her sister too bad. What a fool she’d been.

“We could go legit.”

Anna scoffed. “I wish.” 

“What if we didn’t have to be doomed, though? What if this is our second chance?” Your second chance. Your chance to get away from me, from death. 

Anna removed her hand from Elsa’s thigh. “It’s a nice thought. I always say people deserve second chances, but do we?” 

Silence filled the car as the sisters delved into wells of their own thoughts. The trees gave way to rocky crags which gave way to the view of the city in the distance. The sun inched higher in the sky. Orange clouds turned white.

Sometime after they’d passed a run-down tourist trap, an unmarked Crown Victoria appeared in Elsa’s rearview mirror. She couldn’t turn her neck enough anymore to get a better look. Anna was still driving 30 miles over the speed limit and didn’t seem to be slowing down. Elsa knew what was about to happen before it did.

Red and blue lights flashed atop the car’s roof. The siren sounded. “Oh shit,” Anna muttered. “Oh shit, shit shit shit!” 

Shit, indeed. Elsa blindly dug around in the backseat for anything they might be able to use to cover their faces, Anna’s tale of a paper bag adventure fresh in her memory. Nothing. She slipped back into her seat. “We’ll tell them we’re coming from a costume party,” she said.

Anna laughed. “Is that all you’ve got?”

“Do you have any better ideas?” Elsa snapped. 

“Hmph. No.” She leaned over and kissed Elsa on the mouth, holding her gently for a moment with her eyes off the road. “In case we get separated again.” Elsa stilled and felt silent peace swirl inside her. Their car slowed and pulled over onto the shoulder. 

The cops stopped behind them. Elsa wished she could still hold her breath and had to settle for picking at the cuff of her suit. Nervous ticks all over. A stocky, top-heavy man with a black ponytail and shaven face exited the other vehicle and strode up to Anna’s window. He rapped on the glass with his knuckles and wore an unamused grimace. 

Anna barely cracked the window. “Morning, officer. What can I do for you?” 

The cop didn’t react to her face. Then the smell of rot reached him through the cracked window and he gagged and doubled over. “Good god, woman, what do you have in there? Something dead?” Elsa made a mental note to give Anna a good bath and rub essential oils into her skin. Maybe shove an air freshener down her throat. 

“Oh, I was just--”

“I don’t want to hear it, get out of the vehicle. I’m gonna take a look.” He stepped away from the door and waved a meaty palm in front of his nose. Anna hesitated. “Now, okay? Right now!” 

A shiver ran down Elsa’s spine. Pitched fear welled. Without looking at her, Anna opened the door and stepped out into the morning sun.

The policeman yelped. Time slowed. Maybe there’d been too much glare on the window. Maybe the lawman just hadn’t looked closely enough. As soon as Anna was out the door his eyes grew wide with unbridled terror. He unclipped his sidearm and pointed it in her face. The sisters were both so used to talking their way out of these situations. Bribery, threats. But this wasn’t normal. They’d skipped talking entirely and gone straight to life-or-death. 

“G-Get away! What the fuck, get away!!” The cop stumbled backwards on shaking legs.

“Hey, you there!” Another voice called out. Fuck! Elsa hurt her neck trying to turn around and barely saw another copper striding towards Anna from the corner of her eye. Something shifted in her throat and she feared the antler might be coming loose.

Before Anna could face the second cop he’d grabbed her by the scruff of her shirt and tugged her back.

“Anna!” Elsa slid into the driver’s seat. No one saw.

“Phoebus, hold her!” the first cop called. “I don’t wanna say she’s a zombie but look at her face! Oh, Jesus christ! Here!” He raised his gun to fire at Elsa’s sister. Her love.

“Wait!” Anna cried, “No, hold on. I’m human, I’m human!” 

With a grunt the don kicked the accelerator and revved the Porsche into the first cop’s legs, knocking him up onto the hood of the car with a wet crunch. The second cop cursed and made for his gun.

Anna kicked his knee. He hissed and wrangled her into a choke hold. Anna was strong, but he was twice her size and fit. Elsa glanced back just as her sister pried up the man’s thumb and bit down onto it as hard as she could. He howled and dropped her, blood oozing. She fell like a cat and slammed him in the gut before cracking her fist into his throat, the old one-two. He went down onto the tarmac and was still.

“Come on!” Elsa waved for her sister. Anna rounded the car and slid into the passenger side. 

Elsa floored the accelerator and they shot off down the road, two injured policemen and an empty car in their wake. “Ugh,” Anna said after a moment. She wiped her tongue on her sleeve. “Nope, human flesh still don’t taste good.”

Elsa stole a glance her way. “Are you hurt? Did he get you?” Her heart wasn’t racing. It should have been racing. She was a corpse, dead, no heartbeat, no life. For the first time being a zombie scared her. 

Anna shook her head. “Don’t think I can be hurt, babe.” She checked her neck, head, and limbs for bruises but came up clean. “Even if my bones can probably still break.”

Elsa sighed then hit her forehead against the steering wheel. “Fuck! Now what do we do?” Before it had been bad, but now it was insane. They’d be lucky to get back into the city without drawing the entire police force. 

“Hey, easy!” Anna glanced out the rear view. “We’ve got safe houses. At least this is a situation we’re more familiar with.”

“Yeah.” Anna was right. Again Elsa tried to sigh but couldn’t. Instead she forced herself to smile. “You did good back there. Thank you.”

Anna smiled like she’d just eaten the best piece of cake that ever existed. Chocolate strawberry, probably.

It looked like they wouldn’t be going home for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Cani](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanITellUSmThin) continues to be amazing with these betas, thank you so much dear friend!! <3


	4. The One About Hans

Your name is Hans Westerguard and you really, really hate your boss. She’s the almighty queen of the dark, Elsa Arendelle, and there isn’t a scummy soul in the black pits of the criminal underworld who doesn’t tremble at her name. Yourself included. Yourself perhaps especially.

You stuck by her side when she rose to power but got your cunning self found out. Your plans to overthrow her? Dashed. Your contacts ready to storm the manor at a moment’s notice? Bought out. You spend your days under her boot like a washrag. Write this down, call them, bribe her. Over and over. You’re a post office boy, a chunk of replaceable slag.

You dreamed of so much more. As the last heir of a long-dead criminal dynasty, you deserved it. Whores ought to be lining up outside your door to suck upon your mighty gilded cock free of charge, the lot of good it would do them.

Instead you find yourself sweating on the front lawn of Arendelle manor. Elsa is missing, the long-dead consigliere’s favorite sportsmobile is gone from the garage. The guards are livid. Failures, all of them. They let the kidnapper swoop in and take her out from under their very noses. You’re docking their pay. Or at least, you’re saying you’re docking their pay. You can’t actually do that without her highest majesty’s written consent.

You’re kneeling in the late morning sun looking at the skid marks left by the dead sister’s car. Why did Elsa even hold onto it? They’re wet from the spring rain. No more than 12 hours old. Summer nears, dreadful and hot. You’d hate for your boss to see you sweating. Like you’ve actually been working hard for your keep. No. Everything you do must appear effortless. Especially when on the hunt.

Scar and Gothel returned to the manor earlier in the morning and have yet to stop filling the study with scathing insults. Panicked, no doubt. Who could have taken Elsa? Why haven’t they offered ransom?

Minor details of no real note. You are Hans Westerguard, and you are beyond thrilled by your superior’s predicament! Oh, what if she never returns? What if she’s dead? The thought makes you convulse in radiant joy. To avoid a power vacuum her empire will need an intelligent, potent new king. It’s the smartest thing to do, really. But first you have to play worried. Scared. Oh the noble Ms. Arendelle! Lost? Dreadful, just dreadful! You’ll do everything you can, of course, everything in your power to see that she’s found. You must!

Except you won’t. To hell with her. A more perfect opportunity may never arise.

You stand up and glance down the long driveway at the receding skid marks. Maybe it was her choice, you ponder. That would make sense. Running. You’d suspected she wasn’t really up for the life, wasn’t really fit to rule. She’d threatened you to your face, how could she possibly understand the aristocratic subterfuge necessary to keep a criminal underworld healthy?

The manor doors boom open behind you. Scar and Gothel descend the stairs, expressions wary and tired. You smile to yourself and put on your most pitiable mask then walk over to greet them. 

“Any news?” You ask, your pout exaggerated.

Scar scoffs and shakes his hairy head, arms crossed. “We just got a report that someone saw the consigliere’s car heading out of town last night. Nothing since.”

“Perhaps,” says Gothel, her red dress looking quite fae in the sunlight, “if someone had been keeping their informats stationed where they should have been we wouldn’t have had this issue!”

“Oh, with this once more!” Scar taps his foot. “Jobs needed doing! Those areas were fine!” 

Gothel points in Scar’s face. “Oh? So you’re skimming off the top again, then?” 

“How dare you!” 

As expected. Why even come outside? Maybe they just needed some fresh air between their bouts of heated, hate-filled flirtation. You have no doubt that’s what it is, after all, despite their mutual attempts to hide it. You’re very perceptive.

“Don’t try denying it!” Gothel shakes her head and ignores Scar’s strangled response. “We could use some good news, Westerguard. Do you have anything for us?”

You could tell them where she was probably taken. You could reveal that you found two sets of prints in the garage, that only someone with intimate knowledge of the manor would have been able to find the keys in the potted plant. You don’t, of course. Instead you frown and stare at the ground, eyes shut tight. “No. I’m sorry.” Best to give whoever took her the chance to get away. A chance to kill her, even. “I’ll keep searching, and I won’t stop until she’s found.”

It’s a brilliant plan. Inspired. God, you’re just so fucking smart!

You’re almost through congratulating yourself when you hear a car coming. A green 1959 Cadillac swerves off the road and careens up the manor drive. Right. You hadn’t closed the gate yet because you were looking at the skid marks. 

The vehicle halts in front of you and leaves another collection of scars on the fine asphalt. You’ll get the servants on that. Got to keep the help busy. You wave your hand in front of your nose to dispel the smell of rubber.

Before the driver can pop the door they’re surrounded by a dozen armed guards in body armor. Automatic weapons jab at the glass and the man inside throws up his arms. Is he crying? You think he might be crying.

He opens the car door a few inches and sticks a hand through the crack. A hand that is actually a hook. “Wait, wait! It’s me, it’s me!” The guards drop their weapons and the “captain” steps out. His eyes are bloodshot. Teary. You sneer at his disheveled clothes. How tactless. He’s been your inside man at the police department for years, how could he not have thought of decorum? 

“Hook!” Scar says with a smile. He steps forward and claps the shaking man on the back. “You almost gave us a scare, why didn’t you call ahead? You know you’re supposed to call ahead.” It would be terrible if a civilian saw him enter the estate.

“I’m sorry, Scar, I’m sorry!” He looks about to collapse. “I-It’s the station! I have to warn her ladyship!”

“Slow down, friend,” Scar begins to lead Hook up to the manor steps, “Stay calm. Let’s talk this over with tea.” 

The captain pushes Scar away, his hook waving in front of him. “No, no there’s no time! You don’t understand! We’re all in danger!”

Gothel crosses her arms. Glances at Scar. “And what danger might that be?” She asks. You stand silent. Observing. Genuinely curious. 

“It happened at the station this morning. Early. Two of my men came in from patrol like they’d walked out of hell! One had all his bones broken below the waist! Still unconscious. The other was sweating a lot, kept staring at a bite on his hand, babbling about monsters! Zombies!” Well, then. Gothel and Scar exchange a look and narrow their eyes. You can’t help but smirk. Old Hook seems to be off his 12-step program. “I’m trying to get the details, right? But he can’t hold still! I ask him to lie down for a bit, rest; he does, but when I go to check on him he’s scraping his fingernails against the door like a dog! Moaning! When I let him out he bit me! Other officers, too!” Hook pulls up the sleeve on his hooked hand. You grimace. Human-looking teeth marks fester yellow and grey on his skin, obviously infected.

“Oh god,” Scar grabs the captain’s arm and tugs it in for a closer look. His voice drops an octave. “We need to get this looked at. Immediately.” 

Hook wriggles free and steps back. Swipes with his prosthetic. “No, there isn’t time! We have to leave town! We--” A guttural cry. He spasms. Your mouth drops open a fraction as you watch Hook’s eyes roll back into his skull. He drops to the asphalt, convulsing as if in a seizure. One of the guards, a medic, swoops in to hold up his head.

“Hook!” Scar kneels. Gothel whips out her phone and begins dialing. “Hook, can you hear me?” 

Your skin runs cold as you watch. A dark, foreboding feeling gnaws inside your gut. You glance at the guards. Their weapons. Are they going to be enough?

You aren’t surprised when the medic tells you that Hook is dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we go with this one, more spooks for spooky month 2019!! 
> 
> A big thanks to [Alex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gryffinwhor) for beta-ing this chapter! Much appreciated!


	5. Fuck Cabin in the Woods

The morning began as it often did now, with Elsa's adorable head tucked between Anna’s legs. Getting her tongue up in there are far as it would go. Making cute doggy noises. Anna gripped her sister’s hair and pulled her closer, a smug smile on her undead face. Her skin, once cold with death, radiated an inhuman heat. 

They’d been in the safe house for three days. Disconnected from the rest of the world by thirty miles of pristine pine forest and a total lack of cell coverage. It had been, ironically, the closest base to their little run-in with the fuzz. The little log cabin had been their mother’s, a family heirloom of sorts back from when she was a country mouse rather than a city mouse. Only the highest of officers in the Family even knew it existed. Within its stout walls was everything a human needed to survive for a few months alone. Food. Water. Beds. (Not that they needed food, water, or beds to keep themselves alive anymore). Old black and white movies on VHS.

They’d stopped in a small town on their way to the cabin and dropped a hand-written letter from Elsa in the mailbox. Sealed in wax. It didn’t mention Anna, of course. Their lieutenants would have received it by now and would know that everything was alright. If they hadn’t assumed Elsa had been kidnapped, which was always a risk. Anna crossed her fingers that they were smarter than that. The don was just lying low, keeping herself and Anna’s favorite car out of sight until the cops stopped looking for them. Standard procedure, all things considered. Business as usual. Best of all it gave Anna the opportunity to make up her lost time.

Elsa sucked and nipped at her baby sister’s wet sex like she’s been built for it. She gorged herself, greedy and feisty. Her butt waggled in the air behind her and Anna wished her arm was long enough to slap it. Maybe it could be if she tore one of hers off and held it with the other like a stick. Her head fell back and she moaned. She adored the warm sensation in her tummy.

As it turned out, zombies could still get horny. Painfully horny. They also didn’t have to eat, sleep, or use the bathroom. At first Anna hated not feeling hungry anymore. She missed tacos and sandwiches. But soon enough she came around and realized just how much time she had in the day when she didn’t have to plan her sleeps and poops.

Normally she might be reading in all her free time, or going into the city to visit her friend. God, what would Rapunzel think of her situation? She’d have to call once they got back. There were dozens of things. But this was special. This was her needy sister clinging to her like a baby and crying into her breast at night. So they had sex. Lots of sex. More sex than Anna had ever had within a single 72 hour timeframe. Elsa was pent up from months alone. Scared. Haunted by the sins she had to commit daily to keep their father’s empire going. She needed a good release, and really there were only so many walks through the woods one could take in a day. Only so many times they could watch Double Indemnity. So sex it was.

They growled through the night, hands clawing at the other’s flesh. Desperate. Unconcerned with how their skin didn’t feel quite right, or how their sweat wasn’t clear like it used to be. In the mornings Anna would take an herbal bath. Elsa would wander the woods looking at trees. They’d take necessary time to themselves. Breathing. Be alone. When they would reunite, they would talk about watching a movie on their crummy TV and ancient VHS player. Maybe take a bath. Read a book out loud. In the end it always led to the same thing. Idleness led to closeness, closeness led to teasing, teasing let to heat. Elsa would tear Anna’s clothes off and leave her panting and covered in bite marks that Anna wasn’t sure would ever heal. She’d return the favor by bending her sister over the kitchen sink and plowing her until she couldn’t stand. Elsa would get back at her with anal play and a leash. In retaliation Anna got out the silk straps. On and on it went. She was thankful none of the lieutenants ever found her kink box in the attic.

It was bliss. To Anna, she’d only been gone a few minutes. Whatever experience she’d had after death was lost from memory; whether it was cold nothing or burning hell she had no idea. But to Elsa it had been an eternity. Her red tears were the proof. And Anna was more than thrilled to indulge her favorite person in the world.

Elsa made sure every inch of skin between Anna’s thighs was loved. Her mouth felt like fire. Anna sighed and dug her fingers into the fabric of the couch. Elsa’s nails dragged across her hips, holding her still. Soon they’d have to return to work and face the world. Soon their responsibilities would have them commit further atronicies. In the throes of passion Anna wanted none of it, even if her guilty conscience demanded that she justify the lives she’d taken. The families she’d destroyed. No. She just wanted Elsa.

Her climax arrived like the memory of a good meal, warm and filling. She rode her spasms into the couch with a sign, the soft fabric caressing her back. Whole. 

Her sex came out of Elsa’s mouth with a pop. Anna shuddered. The don wiped sweaty strands of hair from her face and looked up into Anna’s eyes like she symbolized the world itself. The sun.

Looking into Elsa, Anna could understand why she wanted to leave the life behind. They’d never been given a choice. Forced to do awful things, even if it was fun sometimes. Bloodied hands. They were already set financially for the rest of their days. They could choose a successor and go into retirement. Get a nice cottage on the sea, drive fast cars, and fuck behind fancy restaurants. Oh, it was dreamy. But Anna’s guilt stabbed her in the lungs and she could barely breathe. If she had an X cut into her skin for every person she’d ever killed she’d resemble a tessellation. What was it all for? What did it mean?

“How are you feeling, my love?” Elsa asked.

Anna pushed away the dark thoughts and sniggered. She tugged Elsa up by the hair and pulled her into a kiss. “Wonderful, just wonderful.” It was so good to be back. “Can we take your head off and try that again? You could sit on my face and watch me eat you at the same time.” 

Elsa waggled her eyebrows. Her tattoos looked like ancient runes on her azure skin. Like ice. “Getting creative are we? Only if I can leave one of my fingers in you the next time we go for a walk by the river.”

Anna shivered. “Done.”

The pines rustled in the wind outside. Time passed like a heavy cloud. The sisters cuddled. Let their feet tangle. What day was it?

Elsa got up to stretch. Anna watched her go and licked her lips. What good muscles. What good booty! Even dead, no, especially dead! The blue skin made her look like some kind of trickster fae, and goodness, Anna was into it.

Elsa pulled open the creaky wooden door and stepped out into the radiant spring sunlight. It was afternoon. The wrens and finches danced to harmonious melodies near and distant. Anna lay still and closed her eyes. She swore she could hear a woodpecker. 

It was just like how camping ought to have been when they were kids. With less sex, of course. And perhaps some parental supervision. And different parents. 

Anna reached for the coffee table and grabbed the TV remote. The CRT set they had in the cabin looked like it was built in the 50s, but if she jimmied the bunny ears just so she could make it spit out the news. It was something.

The black screen clicked to a dead channel. Anna frowned. She pressed the button again and was met with a static screen that read ‘please stand by.’ It looked ancient. Possibly Cold War. She tried another.

This one worked. At first Anna wasn’t sure what she was looking at. She sat up. It looked like her city, only it was on fire. She turned up the volume on the remote. Whoever was working the camera wobbled and panned it around the streets of the city center from high above. A helicopter. A news anchor stared down into a mess of smoke and rubble. Screams carried up into the sky from the ground. Anna held her breath. A bombing?

“Get a shot of them there!” The anchor said. The camera swerved and zoomed in on the intersection of 4th Avenue and Veil. Blurry figures ran like scared deer. Stumbling over crashed cars and between barricades. A mob of shambling figures pursued them, slow and inevitable. Their arms stretched out in front of their torsos. Anna could see one that was missing a whole chunk of its body and dragged runny intestines along the pavement behind them. Most looked to be dressed in hospital gowns and police uniforms. 

The truth of the matter socked Anna in the face. She began to hyperventilate. “Elsa!” She grabbed a pillow and held it over her exposed chest.

Her naked sister appeared in the door, a hunting rifle in her hands. It was the one they kept hidden under the bench swing on the porch. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I-I--oh Elsa, just look!” Anna gestured for her to sit and watch. Her sister set the rifle down on the coffee table and sat behind her, pulling Anna into her arms. They felt strong and familiar.

The camera shifted focus again. A barrier of police cars sheltered officers firing into a crowd of oncoming people. They shot civilians and zombies alike. Many went down; most got back up. 

Elsa made a choking noise. Struggled for words. “O-Oh my god,” she said. She squeezed Anna tight. “Oh my god.”

The camera panned back up to the anchor, who began to speak. “Still no news from federal or state officials regarding the outbreak of the undead.” Their voice trembled. “The blocks on 8th Avenue surrounding the police station are the most heavily infested, avoid them at all costs. If you are seeing this you have to get out of the city. The main byways are clogged with cars, s-so take the side roads.” The camera pivoted and found the interstate running through the city. It was jammed with metal and smoke. “We’ll be running news for as long as we can, either until the crisis passes or help arrives.” Anna glanced out the window into the woods. Bright, clean light shone down through the flourishing green canopy. The smell of pine and dirt filled her nose. “S-Stay moving! Don’t--” 

The transmission cut out. No explosion. No scream. No indication that anything had happened to the chopper in the air. It was just gone, and the images of desolation were replaced with that same static image. Please stand by.

Anna looked down at her hands. Elsa held them tight enough that it should have hurt. It didn’t. She wished she had a heartbeat so she could feel less like the obvious zombies chasing people through her hometown and more like a human being. There weren’t words. 

“We did this,” said Elsa.

Anna chewed the inside of her cheek. Felt hot guilt in her congealed blood. “Yeah.” Dark, eldritch magic. God fucking damnit. “I think we did.” 

“It’s my fault.” Elsa trembled. Anna shuffled in her arms so she could face her sister. Thick, red tears leaked from the edges of Elsa’s eyes. She chewed her lower lip until the flesh looked like it might come loose. “More people than normal are dying because of me and the city’s going to shit! We have to get down there, we have to help our people--”

Anna reached up to stop Elsa from gnawing her lip off. It wouldn’t look good sewn on. “No, baby, no. Shh,” she leaned in close. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

Elsa let go of Anna and wrapped her arms around her torso. “No it’s not fucking okay, Anna! I raised the dead,” she looked her in the eye. “And look what’s happening to our city! It’s those cops, we must have infected those cops--”

“Elsa, I infected those cops!” Another man on the pile of bodies. Anna didn’t want to look at it. She raised her voice and clapped her hands on Elsa’s shoulders. “I bit the guy, remember? It was me!” Unless it was some other incest-crazed mafia goon trying to bring back her sister.

“But I got out the book! I brought you back!” 

“But it didn’t say anything about infection, did it? There wasn’t a bit about causing the apocalypse?” 

Elsa shut her eyes. “No, but. I looked! Fuck!” She gestured to the entire cabin. “We’ve been living it up out here in bohemia while our city dies! We can’t--I couldn’t have known, I didn’t--we have to do something.” She stood from the couch and grabbed her shirt. She eyed the rifle as she did up her buttons.

Anna held tight to her pillow. Her insides boiled with fear. If Elsa died, or whatever it was they could do that passed for death, what were all the corpses even for? “Baby, we’re safe here. What could we possibly do? We look just like them, the cops shot at us!” 

“Maybe that will give us an advantage! We could blend in! Fuck, it’s something!” Elsa pulled the steel shutters over the cabin windows and popped the loose wooden boards off the wall behind the TV set. She reached into a crevice and withdrew a Beretta DT-11 shotgun. Anna had built it herself from scrap. “Those are our people dying down there!”

“But I can’t let you die!”

“I’ll manage!”

Anna stood and let the pillow fall. She let her hands fall to her sides, revealing her nakedness. Chubby, with scars and gouge wounds scattered about. Blue skin and black sewing thread. Her terror burned inside her like acid. “Elsa, we swindle those people out there!” She pointed at the TV, still on. They were all already dead, even if they didn’t know it yet. The damage was done. Anna would cry herself into hysterics over it later; Elsa had to stay alive. “We murder those people, we take what we want from them! We play at noble, benevolent aristocracy but we’re just monsters feeding on the weak and you know it!” She stomped her foot. “You’ve been fine killing before, been fine with carrying Dad’s sins all this time!” She knew she was being selfish. Oh, the self-loathing that roiled within. “So why now? Why?” Her cheeks felt wet. She reached up and found red tears. 

The birds outside the cabin had gone silent. With the shutters closed the only light remaining was the bulb flickering in the kitchen. Her sister looked at her with agony written over every crease of her face.

“I-I’m sorry, Anna.” She looked at the floor. “I fucked up. Been fucking up for years. I really think this is my last chance to really turn around.” Their shared chance, but she left that unsaid. “I don’t want to be a don anymore.” 

Anna knew, of course. Their hearts were so close. She’d just chosen to ignore it. Chose instead to believe they were murdering and pillaging for the greater good. It was what their father had wanted. She bit the inside of her lip. Her voice was a whisper. “Even though you’re really, really good at it?”

Elsa grimaced. “Especially because I’m good at it.” God, when had her violent, angsty sister become a good person? They were, in fact, very good at being evil scumbags with no accountability. They could get away with it forever if they wanted to. But to choose not to, well. 

Anna wiped her cheek. Didn’t dare look Elsa in the eye. “What about everyone we’ve killed? All the lost hearts and souls? If we stop, we’ve let them die for nothing.”

Elsa stepped forward. Reached a hand out to rub Anna’s collar bone how she liked. “We’ll never be able to repay them, no matter what we do. We have to start somewhere.”

Anna shook away her sister’s touch. Her love. “W-What if we get torn apart by zombies and we’re just heads? Can’t move, nothing? Just shitty, immortal heads!” Her immaturity grasped at the last strands she had. “Let’s wait it out.”

Elsa looked at Anna in a way that broke her heart. She sobbed. Grabbed the fabric of Elsa’s shirt.

“Someone else will show up!” Anna cried.

“And people will die in the meantime.”

They would. Anna knew they would and hated how much it ate at her. Hated herself for being weak enough to fall victim to her father’s schemes. Elsa was right. Why didn’t their mother save them? Why?

Just a year ago Anna put a bullet in a man’s head from three feet away and felt hot blood cover her face. She felt nothing. She’d been too busy thinking about the next car trip with Elsa. Distracted. It wasn’t until later that she tore herself apart over it. She’d become too complacent, too used to cruelty.

Anna looked at the steel shutters. Imagined the green world beyond. Maybe she’d needed to die to break out.

With a grunt Anna leaned down and grabbed her pants up off the floor. She shimmied into them, quite aware that Elsa was watching her. She grabbed her shirt and pulled it over her head, then reached for the hunting rifle. A Remington 700. Well kept, but it could use some love. 

“You’re going to go back whether I come with you or not, aren’t you?” Anna asked. She checked the rifle’s chamber. Clean enough.

Elsa rubbed her arm. “You can wait here. You’ll be safe. I’ll come back, I promise.”

“Not on your life. Or un-life. Whatever.” Anna set down the gun and stood. “I’m your right hand, babe. Consigliere. Don or no don, that’s never going to fucking change. I’m coming.” She approached Elsa and snatched her sister’s hand, bringing the knuckles up to her lips for a kiss. “Thanks for bearing with my petulance.”

Elsa nodded. “Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh snap it got sexy
> 
> Thank you again to [Alex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gryffinwhor) for beta-ing this chapter! Cheers!


	6. Everybody Zombie Night

The sun disappeared behind the horizon of smoke. The sky was summer pink. Elsa popped her head over the ledge at the side of the bridge and looked out onto the road. Yup, there were still cops shooting at zombies. Killing some, but not a whole lot. She cringed as civilians begged them to stop so they could flee. Their barricade blocked the only bridge leaving the inner city. The don ducked back under the decrepit steel bridge and skidded down the dirt path to Anna. A dark river roared beside them. Her sister was checking their ammunition and making sure their guns were in good order. Elsa watched the mumble of her sister’s lips and fixated on the oil smeared over them. She swallowed. Go away, zombie horniness, we’ve got work to do!

They’d loaded the Porsche with as much equipment as they could carry from the cabin but it hadn’t been necessary. The miles leading up to the city were thick with improved walls and soldiers setting up blockades and chatting into radios. The roads were impossible. Red and blue lights colored the smoke rising over the city. Gave shape to the screams.

When they saw the cacophony blocking their way forward, Anna had glanced at Elsa in the way that said ‘alright, superhero, now what?’ Elsa might have been afraid her partner would run off if it was anyone but her sister standing at her side. Anna might quip, but she was in. Elsa believed in her more than anyone. She’d turned the car around and found a gravel side road leading into an alley. They pitched it and took only what they could carry. Rounds. Needle and thread. Paper bags with eye-holes cut in them (Anna had insisted). Checking their corners the sisters hoofed it through the abandoned suburbs towards the city center. Elsa’s shopping bag made her forehead itch. Front doors swung open, locks broken. No cars left. They’d gone three blocks without seeing a soul when they’d arrived at the bridge. 

It bowed over a wide, thundering river. Deep and cold. Ancient rust flaked off the sides. The paint might once have been green. Right on the end of it, the local law enforcement had barricaded themselves behind cars and sandbags. Trembling, all of them. A few grimy dumpsters had been dragged over from a restaurant across the street for extra shielding. Elsa overheard the details she needed: The major city exits had been blocked off; the army was moving in; shoot to kill; no one left alive. It was cunning, and exactly what Elsa would have ordered were she in charge. Were she still don. She’d scowled and threw her paper bag mask to the ground.

She suggested they wait and see if the police had any grander plan. 15 minutes passed; they didn’t. So it was time to act. The sisters scurried up the dirt river path dodging empty soda cans and overturned shopping carts. Like a one-two beat, they poked their heads up over the rim of the bridge road, guns in hand. Anna had to stand tip-toed to see. 

Shots. Screams. Panicked speech. Rotten air. The ever-present moan of the writhing horde slouched forward like a doomsday siren. Elsa shivered. She didn’t notice the cold, but the guilt? Oh, she noticed the guilt. Her insides felt like a tumbling salad of self-loathing and rotting stomach lining. People were always suffering and it was always her fault. She was torn: she didn’t regret bringing Anna back, could never regret it. But the cost had been so high. Too high. She wished she didn’t have to pay it. That people didn’t die due to her selfishness. But really, had anything changed in that regard, really? She was a murderer. It occurred to Elsa that, like her karma, she’d probably never reconcile the two warring aspects of her choice.

“Okay, so,” Anna said to her in a whisper. “What the fuck are we doing here?” There were maybe 20 officers manning the barricade. At least three were huddled in the corner and sobbing. 

Elsa grimaced. “Helping.”

“No. We’re not. We’re hiding. We are hiding under a bridge like soggy undead trolls.”

“You know what I mean.” One of the cops ran out of ammunition. Another tossed her a fresh handgun, but in the second she wasn’t firing on the dead three zombies closed that much more distance to the bridge. Soon they’d spill over like an infected wound. Elsa would have to act fast. “Do you still have the paper bags?”

“Of course I have the paper bags!” Anna jostled her backpack.

“Maybe we should try to talk with them. I can look all authoritative, use my don voice. They’ll listen.” A large, beefy man carrying two children on his shoulders made a break for the barrier. A skinny cop on the left screamed and plugged three shots into his stomach. He dropped. The kids made it across and began attacking the copper as their guardian was torn to pieces by fetid hands and cracked teeth. 

Anna was holding her breath, but let it out when she saw the kids alive. “Yeah, because cops always listen to people with paper bags on their heads.” Anna lifted her shotgun and trained her sights on the nearest zombie. “Or like, anyone at all, ever.” 

“Fine, you have an idea?” 

“Sure. We leave.” It took another two officers to restrain the manic children. By the time they’d been pulled away, the skinny cop was badly bruised and bleeding from the nose.

“I thought we were agreed on this!”

Anna glanced at Elsa. Her expression was wrought with pain. “I meant leave this bridge, not leave the city. These people are fucked and we need to go where we can actually help. Test the boundaries of our undeadness.”

“But people are dying in front of us!” The moaning grew louder. Every person the cops put down seemed to get back up with a rickety slouch. 

“Eh, they’re cops.”

Elsa’s face scrunched up. “Cops are people.”

“Babe, I love you even if you have wrong opinions.” Anna poked Elsa in the shoulder. “Like, you know how weird that sounds coming from you, right?”

A surge of the undead appeared from behind the street corner two blocks down from the bridge. They dragged themselves along like they were filled with rocks. A police captain screamed into a short-wave radio. Begging with tears in her eyes. 

“I meant technically.” 

“Not if we let them turn into shamble spooks.” Anna cocked her shotgun.

The horde was growing closer. Panic rippled through the officers. Elsa grit her teeth and reached for the rifle behind her back. “Yeah.”

The smell of blood was thick. “So we’re gonna do something, right?” The horde reached the barricade. Dozens of zombies grasped through the cars and sandbags. A skeletal arm shot out from the mass and grabbed a cop by her wrist. She screamed. Beyond them on the road another swell of undead materialized from the smoke. They would be overrun. 

Elsa felt the most fascinating mix of guilt and adrenaline. It burned like scotch. “Yeah, fuck the paper bags.” She heaved herself up onto the road and raised her rifle in the air. The cops paid her no mind. “Hey!” She called to them.

Anna followed, vaulting the low wall with ease. “Wait, Elsa, no!” 

“You’ve got to fall back,” Elsa cried. “There’s--” 

“Oh my god!” An officer yelled.

“They’re behind us!” 

“Shit!”

Elsa felt the bullet rain before she heard the shots. “Wait, I’m just--holy fuck, ow, hey!” Metal ripped through her arms and torso and she stumbled backwards, landing on her bum. Anna closed the distance between them and kneeled in front of her sister, shotgun raised at the police. Bullets went wide and missed her legs by inches.

“Hold on,” one of the cops said. “That one’s holding a gun!”

“And the one behind it talked!” 

“Prophets of the dead! Have you come to save us?”

The cop’s arm popped off his body. Elsa didn’t get a chance to reply. Without the constant barrage of fire holding them back the zombies tumbled over the barricade and toppled the officers like dominoes. Screams and blood spilled out of the mob. Bodies pulled into writhing piles of rotting flesh. 

Within 15 seconds they were all dead. The zombies that hadn’t partaken in the feast shambled onto the bridge. Right towards the sisters. Anna shook herself out and stood up. “Huh.” She turned and gave Elsa a hand up. 

The ex-don rubbed her forehead. The half-eaten cops stood up again, arisen into undead. “Did I just kill those people?”

Anna shrugged. “Maybe? If you change your mind about cops being people it won’t count.” She twirled her shotgun in her hand. The zombie officers noticed her and joined the crowd shambling towards them, arms outstretched.

Elsa facepalmed. “Fucking seriously? They all just died and you’re still quipping?”

“I don’t disparage your coping mechanisms, don’t disparage mine.” The muscles in Anna’s jaw clenched. Elsa saw her knuckles turn white on the shotgun grip. “Get behind me though, looks like they’re up for round two.” She fired into the crowd and the head of a shambling elderly man exploded. 

A part of Elsa wanted to curl up and cry. Her first attempt to help save some folks and she’d already fucked up. Brilliant. There wasn’t time for it, though. She raised her rifle and marked a target. Held.

The horde slumped closer. They sounded like a herd of sheep. Eventually the sisters were going to find themselves face to face with the plague, so they’d prepared. They were to check their escape route (the path down under the bridge and back along the river) and hold. Wait for the things to approach. See what happened. A gust of wind carried a plume of smoke between the undead. Their eyes glowed in the darkness like embers.

Elsa held her breath. She didn’t need it to breath. Anna stood still as the night. Closer.

The zombies stopped a few meters away from them. Like there was a wall. From up close Elsa could see the holes sagging in their skin. The eyes failing to remain in their sockets. They lowered their arms. Heads glanced around confused. 

“A-Alright, fucks!” Anna said to the hundreds of walking corpses blocking their path to the inner city. “What’s it gonna be?” 

The moaning died down until the mass was quiet. Shuffling. One zombie, a young girl in a bloodied hoodie, slouched forward. Air rasped from her throat. She coughed, spewing pus as she tried to speak. “Q-QUEEEENS?”

The zombies looked at each other. Looked at Elsa and Anna. “QUEEEENS?” One pointed to its own skin then to the sister’s faces. 

“QUEEEENS.” Nods of assent. More moaning. The effort made a jaw fall off a soccer mom in the front. 

An undead punk rock kid in the back raised its arms towards the sky. “QUEEEENS!” It cried. 

Anna’s shotgun lowered an inch. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Elsa’s mouth hung open as she watched the undead break out into a chorus. Their hands flailed above their heads. Some who still had legs bounced from foot to foot like children. 

“QUEEEENS! QUEEEENS! QUEEEENS!”

Elsa buried her face in her hands. No. Too much. Why?

“Elsa, I think they like us.”

“Uuuuuuughhh.” 

“I think they might really like us! Keeping you alive is gonna be easier than I thought!” She stepped forward and took a bow. “Pardon the expression.”

“We could have saved those people.” 

“I dunno, they seem pretty happy. You sure we didn’t?” Anna cupped her hands over her mouth. “Hey! Is one of you Rapunzel?”

“QUEEEENS!”

“God I hope she made it.” Anna chewed her thumb. “Those cops were gonna fucking kill us anyway once they realized who we are.”

The whole carnival of a situation was fucking bullshit, that’s what it was. Elsa crossed her arms. Straightened her back. A don of zombies. “Hey, rotty cocks!” 

“QUEEEEEEEENS!”

“Get out of my way!” Her hand cut through the air. The zombies didn’t move. In fact they seemed to be cheering louder. While they weren’t killing them, it didn’t seem like they were going to listen, either. Elsa huffed. “I hate every part of this and have no idea how to feel,” she said to Anna.

Anna clapped Elsa on the shoulder and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Just feel. A therapist once told me that feelings aren’t bad.” Elsa gave her sister a look. “Shall we head further in?” 

For their first attempt to pass the zombie horde the sisters tried to push past them. It wasn’t a great idea: the zombies’ skin was like wet leather and parts of them had lungs and intestines hanging out in awkward places. Elsa retched when she bumped against a young woman with the front of her rib cage missing. They scrapped that idea. Asking didn’t work, either. And there were too many to kill. To compound their frustration, the sisters had to yell over the chanting.

“What if we climb over the tops?”

“QUEEEEEEEENS!”

“What?”

They were trapped on the bridge. Blocked from the inner city by the horde, which had clogged the street leading back to the intersection. At least the power was still going. The street lights flickered, illuminating the dark. Frustrated, Anna slung curses at the zombies as she paced. Elsa plotted with her hand on her chin. The shots and cries of the city were drowned out by the song of their undead fans.

After a few minutes Elsa saw her sister eye the steel girders on the side of the bridge. She rolled up her sleeves and grabbed two of them, pushing herself through to the other side. She hung from the metal bars over the dark river.

It wasn’t like they had any other ideas. Elsa followed her sister and they shimmied along a narrow metal ledge that connected with the street. The gaze of the undead followed them. When they’d finally reached land Anna grabbed Elsa’s hand and tugged her along before the zombies could shamble after them. Elsa glanced back as they ran down a main road. The zombies seemed confused. Some of them lost focus and began to mill about. Others slouched devotedly after them as she thought they might, tripping over themselves and the spilled sandbags. 

The sisters ducked into the first apartment building they could find. Tall, uninteresting. Not on fire.

The front door had been heavily barricaded but with a little climbing, they found they could reach an open window on the second story. Elsa stumbled onto the Victorian-era windowsill and tumbled end-over-end into what she thought must have been a child’s room. The lights were off. Small space toys lay about. A single unmade bed filled the corner. 

Anna picked up a stuffed bear and turned it over in her hands. “Glad there’s no blood here,” she said in a whisper. Elsa nodded assent as she looked over a collection of photos taped to the wall. Red haired children playing on a swing set. An old bear of a man hugging a young woman.

The door burst open. The sisters whirled, guns raised. The woman from the photograph stood in the door pointing a sporting rifle in their faces. She was tall, well muscled, and clad in a torn flannel shirt. Her red curls tumbled to the middle of her back. 

“Well, look wh’ ‘t is. Ye two sure did make quite a show o’ it there. Ye look ded but ya talk. Got the wights’ attentions!” The woman cocked her gun. Elsa stepped back. Anna stepped forward. “So, are ye human or a’ ye zombie?” The woman slammed her foot against the ground. “Le’s hear it!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop whoop here we go
> 
> Good things for dear [Alex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gryffinwhor), who beta-d this chapter! Thank you!


	7. Merida’s Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Your name is Merida DunBroch and you are so fucking done. 

Let’s set the scene: you’re lounging in your apartment. It’s beautiful outside. Singing birds, trees that are green. ‘Fuck, you love green’, you think as you sip your Innis & Gunn. On your lounge days, you often find yourself contemplating green. It’s just the shit. Summer rules. But today? Oh, today does not rule.

Your kid is at school. Learning about stuff that may or may not ever be useful. You didn’t school in the states, you’ve no idea what it’s like. Your ex is going to pick her up at 3pm, and boy-oh-boy are you not thrilled about that. He’s just such a cunt! A wee, shoddy cunt! The days he picks up are the days you dread.

You work night shift. Security guard. You got home just in time earlier to wake your wee lassie and shoo her off to learning camp. When she was fed and hugged and away on the bus you’d normally be plopping into bed to catch up on shut-eye. Not this time, though. No. Your boss docked your pay today because you’ve been coming in late too often and you aren’t as thrilled about standing still for 8 hours as you could be. So you pop open a bottle and sit in the window to watch the morning sun. Kick your feet up, maybe have yourself a wank. Wallow in your misery. God, Ellie needs new shoes soon. And books. Rabid reader, that one.

The alcohol feels warm and smells like home. You ingest it liberally. It clouds your eyes. Your lids feel so heavy, ugh, why are they so heavy? You close them. Just for a minute, of course. Some rest.

You wake up on the floor covered in sweat and with your fingers lodged in your knickers. Your head pounds like a door. Moans and scratches. It gets louder. Wait, that’s not your head.

Some fuck is humping your door. Ugh, not again! Jerry is a shit. You grab for the edge of the dinner table and miss. Your face splats against the chilly linoleum floor. The moaning grows louder. More scratching, too much scratching for ten fingers. How many humpers does Jerry got out there? 

Second time’s the charm and you drag yourself back up into your chair. Your head wobbles. Your skull fluid is screaming at you. Why don’t you remember the past few hours? You glance outside. Still light. Huh, there’s a lot of folks running and screaming. Charity marathon? You shut the glass harder than you mean to and one of the window panes cracks down the middle. Another expense. God, you are not in the mood.

“Aight, aight, quit yer f’ckin’ hammerin’ I’m a comin’!” You button up your jeans and stumble over to the door. Jerry is a dead man. You open your front door.

There’s Jerry, only he’s a dead man. Couple of his mates are standing behind him. Only their skin is blue and they’re missing chunks of themselves. Eyes dangle from their black sockets. Pus and maroon blood ooze from gunshot wounds in their faces. Their arms stretch out in front of them, grasping. 

Oh god, what year is it?

You slam the door in their faces and stick a cheap wooden chair under the knob. Ellie painted that one, but you’ll have to beg her forgiveness later. The moaning returns louder. You claw at your hair.

Oh shit, oh fuck! Oh god! Daddy was right, god bless his stubborn heart!

You dash for your cell phone and call Ellie. On the fifth ring it goes to her voicemail. “Hoi, its Ellie! This cell phone is only for emergencies, mum! You said so!” Click. Fuck.

You could cry. Drop to the floor of your shitty expensive apartment and weep your guts out like the zombies on your welcome mat. Oh, you want to. You’re still so woozy from the booze. The scratching at the door hurts your throbbing forehead. Fear courses through your blood like dragon fire. No, you’re not going to give up. Not allowed. Instead of imploding, you stride over to the window and look down onto the street. Folks are running this way and that with improvised weapons. Slouching corpses trail after them. The bank two blocks down is burning from lobby to penthouse. A news helicopter flies over your block. And the screams, oh the screams. You could crawl back into bed with your Innis & Gunn and shiver with fear until you died. 

But nay, that wasn’t how you were raised. Mum and Dad didn’t give you life so you could go abandoning your only child like they did. You pass the front door on your way to your bedroom, ignoring the scratching and splintering of wood. You shuck off your work clothes. Root around in your closet. Combat boots, cargo pants, army gloves, lumberjack shirt. You dress.

Behind your dresser stands your baby, a Remington R-15. Perfect for your favorite long-range marksmanship competitions. You grab it along with your backpack and hike them over your shoulders. There’s already ammo, foodstuffs, and your medications in the pack; leftovers from your days in the army. You also grab your phone charger, just in case.

When you re-enter your living room, there’s a hole in the door. It’s small, but not for long. A single fetid arm sticks through and grasps furiously. 

You stomp your foot three times. “Aye, ye unde’d cunts! I’m ‘n here! Come ‘n git me! I’m n’ce n’ juicy, j’st fer you!” 

The hand jerks around in search of you. Splinters of wood jam into its flesh but it doesn’t notice. The moaning is like an unmuffled car. You head for the window.

The climb to the roof isn’t far. You find grips in the old brickwork and window sills easily enough, though you make sure to check each apartment for undead before you clamber by. Can’t be too safe. When you reach the top your arms and abdominals are stiff from exertion. It’s been a while since you've scaled a wall.

The city below is being eaten alive. The scent of burning plastic and rotting flesh makes your nose curl. Eight blocks to the south is your target: Ellie’s elementary school. It’s right by the historical bridge leading across the river and into the suburbs. Your fear rattles in your bones like evil bees. But you can’t bother being afraid right now. Not until your wee lassie is back in your arms. 

Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll have an excuse to murder your ex now.

-o-

Navigating the streets wasn’t too hard, as it turned out. Scary as fuck, but not too hard. You found yourself backed into corners a few times but there weren’t enough zombies to overwhelm your Remington. 

You reached the bridge just as it was getting dark. A beautiful pink sky. A lackluster barricade of cops were doing their best to stop the zombies from shambling across the river. You watched a guy run up to them screaming for help only to get a bullet in the leg. The dead took care of the rest.

To avoid becoming hamburger you scampered a few blocks down before crossing the main byway leading onto the bridge. Sidestepped the dead and leapt up onto cars to get away from their stanky grab-hands. Found a nice empty apartment to squat in while you assessed your target. You made your way to the roof, wary of your corners. Clear. Your heart stung as you jogged over to the edge of the building and saw what lay in the chaos. The elementary school was huge, almost an entire city block. The main doors were fortified with desks and chairs and it was holding, but it wouldn’t forever. Hundreds of zombies pushed up against the barricade, clawing and stumbling over each other in their savage attempt to get inside. You bit your lip. Bad news. Fucks, all of them. Why couldn’t the apocalypse come when it was your custody day? Worst day ever.

You took solace in the fact that, if there were zombies, that meant someone inside had to still be alive. Hopefully Ellie. Hopefully someone even remotely resembling a responsible adult. Definitely not your ex. 

You’re sitting on the edge of the fucked up apartment building, wishing for scotch. It’s been 15 minutes since you started watching the school doors. The zombies haven’t made headway. You’re ignoring the screams behind you. The pink sky turns blue. The sun has long since gone and the frequency of shots are dying down. The world quiets as the dead outnumber the living. On the horizon you see a long, undisturbed line of bright white lights. An army barricade. 

You’re biding your time; your leg bounces uncontrollably. You have to. The last thing you want to do is go running into the school without a plan. You’re even thinking about waiting until dawn for better light, but how long will the doors hold? You need a way to distract all of the rotting fucks at once without using yourself as bait. You need a goat. One, single goat. Mum could always solve a problem with just one goat.

You’re scratching your cheek and cursing when you hear a different cry carrying over the wind. It sounds like chanting. You crane your head towards the bridge.

“QUEEEENS! QUEEEENS!”

You shiver. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. You leap to your feet and dash across the rooftop towards the river. A horde of undead stands, shambles, and crawls in the street below, their arms pumping in the air like hungry sports fans. They’re surrounding two figures, clearly undead from their blue skin glowing in the streetlights below, that appear to be shaking their fists at the crowd and speaking English. Like people. People who happen to speak English.

You watch, stunned, as the figures climb through the steel bridge scaffolding and shimmy towards the street. The river churns underneath them. The red-headed one grabs the blonde one by the hand and they come sprinting for your chosen hiding place. Your heart spikes with fear at the thought that the horde might chase them, but it doesn’t. Instead the shamblers glance around, confused, as if a delicate tune vanished into nothing. What on Earth? 

You’re on your feet in a flash and down the stairs. Your leg catches and you almost trip. A noise on the second floor calls to you. Rifle raised, you burst through the first door on the landing. The oddities stand before you in all their confusing glory. They stink like the undead but react like the living with wide eyes and flinching. Lord, do they stink though. Like roadkill that kept on going. They’re decked out in civilian clothes that look a little too nice not to be designer. The redhead is wearing a sick rose leather jacket.

They whip out their own weapons and suddenly it’s two on one. It never once occurred to you that zombies, even half-zombies, could shoot guns. Ah, folly. You chuckle to yourself and think of Ellie, noticing a little too late that you’ve stumbled into an abandoned kids’ room. Your gut churns and you try not to look at the photographs on the walls. Your aim falters; as if you weren’t dead already. Any second now the first shots will enter your skull and you’ll die, though you hope you won’t have to come right on back and shamble about like a dumbass for eternity afterwards. 

You do your best to get one last quip in. A warrior’s death. Mum would be so proud. “Well, look wh’ ‘t is. Ye two sure did make quite a show o’ it there. Ye look ded but ya talk. Got the wights’ attentions! So, are ye human or a’ ye zombie? Le’s hear it!” You shut your eyes and wait for the bullets, but they don’t come. You peek through one eye.

It’s the blonde who speaks up first. “Well, I mean. B-both? Sort of?” She glances at her companion.

The redhead shrugs and looks you dead in the eye. “I’m gonna tell you right now that your shots won’t do shit to us,” she says. “You’ve got blood to bleed, we don’t. But we don’t want to kill you, either, right Elsa?” The blonde nods. You can’t believe the words that are tunneling into your ear-holes. “So let’s all lower our weapons, okay Highlander?”

“O’ ye?” 

You fire. Dirty zombie tricks! The force of the shot knocks the redhead off her feet. Smoke leaks from a new hole in her ribs. Dead? You round on the blonde but she screams and throws her fucking gun at your face.

You have to admit you weren’t expecting that.

It smacks you in the throat and you make a gurgling noise as you fall backwards against the door. The blonde is on you in a second and beats your face with hands that are far, far too cold. Like indestructible ice cubes. After four shots, you’re seeing stars and don’t feel an awful lot like getting back up. She stops, panting heavily. But you’re alive, so hey, that’s a plus. 

She’s straddling you. Under other circumstances you might be pleased by the fact. The blonde turns to her companion, who’s sitting back up with a groan and poking the hole in her chest. “Anna? You okay?”

“Yeah,” Anna says. “gonna have to sew that up, but yeah.” She looks at you. “Fucking rude, much? We stated our intentions.”

“Jus’ b’cause ye talk,” you spit blood onto the floor. “Don’ mean ye ain’ zombies.” You try to push the blonde off but she’s got you good and pinned. “Now th’re, lassie,” you glare at the voluptuous undead woman in your lap. “Will ye r’move yer bum from me cock region?”

Anna snarls at you and gets to her feet. “Quite the mouth on this one, huh, Elsa?” She helps the girl off your lap. Heat springs back into your pelvis and you sigh in relief. 

You’re still shocked you’re not dead. You should by all accounts be dead. Maybe the talking zombies aren’t the avatars of the end times after all? You shake your head.

The Remington spun from your hands when you went down. You grab it up and hold it close, but don’t point it at the two zombies again. Your next words are slow, almost as slow as your brain is in staying up to speed with the situation. “So, are ye no’ gonn’ eat me?” You have to ask. 

Elsa snorts and crosses her arms. “I would think not. You don’t smell appetizing in the least.” Something comes over the blonde like a shawl. Her shoulders square. She widens her stance. Her eyes freeze like ice. You get the impression that, whoever this woman is, she’s killed before. You’ve seen it in the army. It makes you shudder.

The redhead cocks her shotgun and lightly kicks your knee. “Are you going to attack us again?”

“An’ fight ye two agains’ one? Nay, lassie, I don’ think I am!” Civil zombies, good lord. It’s really real. You heft yourself to your feet and force yourself to smile. Undead fucks who can reason? What a stroke of luck, and a useful one at that! You give Elsa a genuine thumbs-up. In the moment you don’t really care who they are as long as they can help you achieve your goal. “Ye got a good arm on ye! D’ any boxin’?”

Elsa blinks. “Poekoelan, actually.”

You nod like you know what the fuck that is. “Aye! Well, it’s nice t’ meet ye, uh, Elsa, was ‘t?” She affirms. You smile at Anna, who is definitely still scowling at you. “An’ who’s ye girlfriend?” 

“Anna,” says Anna. You expected her to object to ‘girlfriend.’

“Nice t’ meet ye too. I’m Merida.” You roll your shoulders. They’re shorter than you, these girls, but they exude self-importance. Confidence. They aren’t normal civvies, you’re sure of that. Ex-military? Criminals? You let the conversation lull, curious as to what they might fill it with, if at all.

Elsa places a hand on Anna’s shoulder. Her shoulders loosen. “It hasn’t exactly been a pleasure Merida, but you’re the first person we’ve been able to hold a conversation with since we got here, so it’s not atrocious.”

You remember the bridge that used to have a police barricade on it. “I can’ imagine th’ fuzz took kindly to ye, lookin’ like ye do.”

“They didn’t.”

“But ye didn’ eat them, either?”

“No.”

“Any partic’lar reason? Tried ‘t alrea’y, didn’t li’e th’ taste?” 

Anna heels to Elsa like a trained puppy. “We’re not going into that,” she says.

“Fair ‘nough.” It wasn’t like you were about to offer up your backstory, either. Sure, you’re curious why you aren’t being eaten, but you’ll take your blessings where you can. Just folks meeting at gunpoint at the end of the world. All too new, all too familiar. “So eh, where ye b’n to? Ye come o’er the bridge? How’re th’ ‘burbs?” 

“They’re burbs,” Anna deadpans.

You snicker. Humor in this one. “Aye, so no’ much change, then?”

“Not really.” 

You cackle. A smile smile grows on Anna’s lips. Her shotgun hangs loose at her side. Oh, she’s cute too if you can ignore the necrophilia aspect. You’re learning so many things about yourself today. 

Elsa clears her throat. “Merida, perhaps you could be of help to us.” 

Anna gives her a look. “Ugh, really? We’re starting with her?” Hmm, maybe they will eat you after all.

“Do you have a better idea?” Elsa’s words cut like diamond. You cock your head in confusion. Anna remains silent but you can tell she’s chewing the inside of her lip. “We’re trying to use our, well, particular biological situation to best help the people still in trouble,” she says. She rubs her hands together. “As you no doubt saw, the undead don’t attack us. Is there anywhere nearby that’s in need of immediate help?”

You feel light headed. Oh, is that the alcohol coming back or the fear? You want to fall over and kiss the ground at your good fortune. But you don’t, obviously, because you have an image to keep up. Instead you invite your new friends to sit down at a bloodstained table and put their feet up. You have a proposition. 

-o-

As much as it hurts, you’ve decided to wait for dawn. No, hurts isn’t the best word. It opens your rib cage and sticks glass in your guts. Yeah, that’s better. Because really, fuck. Just fuck. You just want your daughter back and you want out of this fucking city.

You’re staring out of a first floor apartment window at the school across the street. Elsa and Anna are standing in front of the doors and appear to be playing cards. Maybe rummy. They’ve been there for six hours, keeping the zombies at bay until the sun rises and you can see. The zombies, you’ve discovered, don’t need the light to find you, which meant going it at night would be suicide. Useless career as a night guard. You’re willing to die to save your daughter, but you’re also aware that your stupidity will only shorten her life instead of extending it. Some of the slouching undead are still chanting after the initial chorus that arose once the strangers stepped out onto the street. Others mill about, bumping into each other and tripping like toddlers. They never get closer than a few meters to your new friends. God, you’ve lucked out.

You sniff the air and choke on the rot. It’s only grown overnight. You’ve tied a cloth over your nose but it hasn’t helped much. It’s been a while since you saw a helicopter; you’ve been counting. You haven’t slept since your booze fugue yesterday and you need something to keep you awake. Besides the cries of the damned, obviously.

Anna stands up, stark and alone in the field of the dead. Elsa follows. They wave their arms in the air to signal the beginning of your plan. A plan you’re not even sure will work, but it was yours, and you want to see it grow.

They’re something else, those weirdos. Zombies who want to help people? Who feel empathy? Who ran back into a dying city when they saw its destruction on the news? Them’s some zombies. During the night your new partners secured a safe route into the school through a cracked window by the front door. You just hoped their influence extended as far as they claimed.

You shiver and hold your rifle tight. Not the time for nerves, not the time at all. For your kid. Then it’s out of the fucking city and as far away as possible. Overseas, maybe. Into the mountains. Perhaps you’ll return to Scotland and Ellie can see the graves of her grandparents.

Elsa and Anna climb onto one of the many cars stalled in front of the elementary school. The sky is warm with light. Barely 9am. With careful precision, they leap over the undulating dead bodies to another car. Then another, and another. At each landing the zombies turn to face them, mouths wide, but they don’t attack. A few of them get the chanting going again, the first pumping. But it’s so docile. Deceptively so. 

“QUEEEENS! QUEEEENS!” Why queens? Did zombies prefer monarchy as their system of government? 

Your two rotting women reach the window without touching the ground. The zombies below you, once agitated by your very presence, have calmed and begun chanting. Some try to smile but end up cracking the flesh around their teeth and bleeding down their chins. Elsa knocks on the glass, a warm look on her face.

Moment of truth. You think of your daughter and suck in a huge breath. You, Merida DunBroch, pry open the window and stick your head out into the air. 

Nothing. The zombies are fixated on their queens and don’t give you a second glance. Perfect. Your relief is palpable, no doubt, in the pale color of your skin. You suck in a great heap of air, fetid smell or no fetid smell. 

“W-Well, hard part’s over th’n?” You say through an attempt at laughter.

“Not just yet,” says Elsa. She’s wearing the same clothes from yesterday. If she didn’t stink she’d be pretty. Sexy. Even with the blue skin. Lord oh lord why does she stink? 

“Come on,” Anna says as she reaches up to help you climb out the window and onto the car. “Let’s go save us some kids.” Her enthusiasm is appreciated. You thought Anna might have just been a tag along. A body guard who would be hard to convince to go into an infested school. But the second you mentioned children in danger she perked up, alert. She hadn’t sassed you since. 

“It’s a soft spot for her,” Elsa told you in the apartment. “Our parents didn’t treat us well as kids.” Join the club. 

You step down onto the metal top of the sedan with a wobble. Still no grasping arms. You’re so close though that you can see the pus spewing from their mouths, the sinew breaking apart like rope in their arms. You grunt and force yourself not to vomit.

With Elsa and Anna’s help, you leap your way back across the cars, slower this time. You almost slip at one point, but the redhead catches you and throws you to the next car. Why does being dead give them super strength? So many questions. Questions that really, really don’t matter. 

It takes you half an hour to work your way back to the school doors. Your legs burn when you touch down to the street for the first time that day. Without missing a beat you go for the window. You trust that Anna and Elsa are keeping the horde occupied. You have to. You don’t dare look back and see all those moaning maws at eye level. 

The glass shatters easily. You remove the scraps from the windowsill with the butt of your rifle and heft yourself into an empty classroom. The floor is cold when you topple onto it. You scramble up, eyes wild, looking around for threats. 

But there’s nothing. Overturned chairs. Walls covered in drawings and alphabet charts in four different languages. The faint smell of crayons. It’s just a school. You crawl on your hands and knees to the door. It’s unlocked and unbarred. Through the small window you can see dark, empty hallways extending in either direction. Ellie has to be here. She has to.

There’s a thumping noise from behind and you whirl around. Elsa and Anna are picking themselves up off the floor. “Well, that went well,” Anna says.

Elsa hums in agreement as she dusts herself off. Drawn up to her full height she looks regal, powerful. It’s a far cry from the awkward, fearful woman you thought you’d met when you shot her girlfriend.

“Do you see anything out there?” asks Elsa. 

You stand aside so she can look into the shadowy halls. “Nothin’ movin’, which ‘s th’ important bit.”

“Where’s your daughter's classroom?” 

“Left, ‘m pretty sure.” Memories of a parent teacher conference flicker behind your eyes. “Should b’ some stairs leadin’ t’ th’ second floor. It’ll be on th’ right.” 

Elsa nods. “Alright. Anna?”

Anna moves past you and pushes open the door, her shotgun aimed forward. “If anything pops out, you get between us, yeah?”

“Aye.”

You slip into the hallway, rifle ready. Elsa follows last and closes the door with a soft click. You circle around each other in a long spiral, trying to keep eyes pointed outwards at all times. Your footsteps echo in the halls. You flinch around every corner, at every hallway intersection, but there’s nothing. No dead, no blood. You reach the stairs in no time. Anna leads you up as Elsa brings up the rear. No, you think, they’re far too competent to be civvies with no training. Checking blind spots, clearing halls, even their hand signals are well thought out. Who the fuck are these chicks?

The second floor is also empty. You curse under your breath. Absence breeds anxiety. It was a school day; did everyone really get out in time? Maybe they were at recess. Where are the bags and open lockers? The signs of panic? 

You start jogging when you see the number on Ellie’s classroom door. It’s just how you remember it, yellow and wide, though in the dark it glimmers as if taken from a nightmare. The window peering into the room is covered with paper. The lovers are close behind you, guns still ready. With a trembling hand you try the door. Locked. Swallowing air, you knock twice.

You hear the moaning of the dead outside the school. It carries through the walls like a wave. Did they find someone? Do they have a way in? You can’t know. A scraping noise from below grabs your attention and you look down. There’s a piece of notebook paper with a pencil taped to it. The first line reads, ‘password?’

You stifle a laugh. A sob. Somewhere in the middle. You glance at Elsa and Anna. They’re looking at the paper like it might bite them. Silly. That’s your daughter's handwriting. 

‘Ellie,’ you write with the pencil, ‘it’s your mum, please open the door.’ You drop the pencil as you’re writing the last word and the clatter echoes down the empty halls like a gunshot. You freeze. Elsa and Anna whip around, guns raised. Nothing. Still nothing. It really is just an empty school.

You slide the piece of paper back under the door. A moment later the cover blocking the window slips aside and you glimpse an eye. It widens, then disappears. You hear scuffling from under the door. Whisperers. The door unlocks and there’s your Ellie. Her face is covered in dirt and there are holes in her jeans that weren’t there before. Her long brown hair is tied into ponytails. Your heart swims. You drop to your knees and she collides with you. Quiet, heavy tears stain your flannel. She’s quivering. A gaggle of children stand in the door, watching with expressions ranging from envy to despair. There’s barely a classroom full of them, you realize. Hundreds of school bags are stacked in the corner. 

“You’re here,” Ellie whispers to you. “Mama, you’re here.”

“I’ve got ye, lil’ lassie.” You kiss her cheek. “I’ve got ye.”

Then the other children finally notice Elsa and Anna and they scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to [Alex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gryffinwhor) for beta-ing this chapter! Cheers! 
> 
> Hope ya'll are liking these weird 2nd person interludes as much as I do in writing them


	8. In the Middle of Our Street

Anna’s chest felt tight. She watched Merida tug her daughter into a warm embrace and realized that she’d never had that experience with her mother. Not with any family save Elsa. In that moment Anna wanted to be alone, to be away from a city going bad, with just her sister. Elsa can’t get hurt if they’re not in the city. Their parents can’t corrupt them if they’re alone. If they’re dead.

Then the kids started howling. It was as if a fast car killed a crow while it was flying with the flock. Sudden terror. They pointed at her, at her sister, and scrambled back into the room. Merida shot to her feet, Ellie in her arms.

“Oy, oy, hush ye varmints!” Merida hissed at the children, waving her free arm in their faces. “They’re good, it’s jus’ zombie mak’-up! Don’ panic!” Anna let herself smile, even if the screaming meant they were all about to die.

She dropped into a firing pose, her shotgun trained on the top of the hallway stairs. Elsa let her rifle fall to her side and she knelt down, her arms out at her sides in a placating gesture. “Hey, hey! I’m talking! Zombies don’t talk! I’m not going to eat you!” 

A larger kid with bright red hair came barreling out of the classroom with a machete. “Monsters!” She screamed, before burying the blade in Elsa’s face. The ex-don wheezed in surprise. 

Anna snarled. She shoved herself between the kid and her sister, her teeth bared like a wild animal. “Get the fuck back, urchin! We’re not here to hurt you! That’s my sister you just stabbed!” She hissed for good measure and turned to tend to Elsa.

The kid stared at Anna like she was a demon from outer space. Merida set Ellie down and gently pushed the kid into the classroom. “Aight, aight, tha’s enough, git inside, now,” she paused, glancing back at Anna. Her face twisted up. “Wait, di’ yo’ jus’ say Elsa’s your fuckin’ sister?” Oops.

Anna ignored her. Ignored the heat in her cheeks. Later. Ellie poked at the knife in Elsa’s forehead, unafraid. “Wow, looks like your friend really got me!” Elsa said, and laughed as she grabbed the handle of the blade. With a jerk it came free, pulling bits of thick blood and bone with it. Ellie curled her nose at the smell.

Anna scooted in for a closer look and tried to level her furious breathing. “It isn’t too deep, I think you’re good.” Nothing long-term besides a scar. “Let’s not try to go deeper and test if our brains are our weak points, yeah?” She reached into her pack and pulled out a gauze bandage. 

Elsa took it and wrapped a piece around her forehead to hold the oozing at bay. “I like this idea.” When she was done she turned to Ellie. “Hello, Ellie.”

“H-Hi.”

Anna did her best to smile at the ragged-looking girl. Her hair was more a mess than a bird’s nest. “Sorry if I was scary for a minute there,” she said. “I’m Anna, and this is my friend Elsa.” Already her rage and fear were dying down. It was the look of Ellie--the wide eyes, the small frame--that filled Anna’s insides with empathy and sadness. “We came here with your mom to rescue you and your friends.” She could hear Merida inside fielding questions. It occurred to her that she’d stopped paying attention to the stairwell the second Elsa was in danger. Luck was all that kept them from an ambush. She glanced towards the dark stairs. Nothing. Where was the horde?

Ellie sniffled. Merida ordered the kids to gather up their things and stode back to the door. She examined Anna as she interacted with her daughter. “A-Are you going to eat us because Ariel stabbed Elsa?” 

Elsa chuckled and reached out a hand. It hovered in front of Ellie, an offering. After a moment Ellie took it and shook. She shivered from the cold. “No, I think I can find it in myself to forgive her.” 

Ellie smiled and stepped closer. “It’s not really zombie make up, is it?” She said in a whisper.

Elsa shook her head. “No, it isn’t. We’re here to help and we definitely won’t eat you.” She ruffled the girls hair. “Even if you’re cute.”

“I’d be careful though,” Anna said with a grin, “the boogeyman works for Elsa. If you make her mad he might come after you!” She wiggled her fingers in imitation of a witch. Ellie giggled and ran back to her mom, clinging to Merida’s leg like a koala. A goofy, warm smile broke over Anna’s lips despite herself and she glanced at Elsa, who was giving her a knowing look.

“Is this every’ne, kiddos?” Merida asked the class.

“Yeah,” Ellie said, “Parents picked up most of the rest before it got bad.”

Merida cursed. Anna took Elsa’s hand and stood up, looking over the class like a corral of puppies. She really, really had a soft spot for kids. Fuck. Elsa squeezed her hand. “We should get going,” she said to the classroom of dusty children. “That noise might have attracted something.” Better safe than sorry.

“But you’re not our parents,” Ariel said from behind a gargantuan pile of loose school bags. “Are you going to leave us too?”

“No,” Elsa said with a soft voice, “you’re all coming with us.”

Ariel stepped forward and held her arms behind her back. “Even though I tried to kill you?” She looked up at the bandage on Elsa’s forehead.

“Even though you tried to kill me.”

Another kid spoke up. “If that’s zombie make-up how are you still alive? And why do you stink?” 

“Uh,” Elsa glanced at Anna. “I’ve got a thick skull and I haven’t showered in a week.”

Anna sniggered to herself and looked at the ground, but was rewarded with a pinch on the butt from her sister. Merida beckoned for the rest of them to gather so she could count them all. Check their supplies. Soon they’d be out.

Anna was pulling the door shut when she heard the moan echoing up the stairwell. “Oh fuck.”

“Ohh!” One of the kids pointed at her. “She said a swear!” 

Anna slammed the door shut and piled chairs and desks in front of it. The kids scrambled like birds, hopping and flitting around the classroom and grabbing iron pipes, kitchen knives, and bricks. Wait, where did they get the bricks? The moan vibrated through the door. There must have been a way in somewhere. Damn it all! 

Elsa and Merida pushed the kids up against the far wall as Anna kept her gun trained on the door. They had a few minutes at most before the shamblers reached the second floor. A breach was inevitable; time to escape.

“We need a plan right the fuck now,” Anna said. She glanced around the room and spotted the large windows. Of course. She looked down at Ellie, who had planted herself to Anna’s right with a butter knife pointed at the blockade. “Hey Ellie, just to make sure, there’s roof outside those windows, right?”

Ellie nodded. “The pigeons poop there.”

“Cool. Watch the door.” Ellie stiffened, eyes wide. 

Anna darted for the windows, grabbing a brick from the kids’ weapon stash as she went. She hurled it through the glass, which thankfully wasn’t reinforced. Shards clattered to the floor and the kids backed away. In their eyes Anna saw something she’d only seen in adults before. Oh, how her bleeding heart ached. She cleared the rest of the window glass with the butt of her shotgun and gestured through the new opening.

“Alright kids, onto the roof! Go!” A weight slammed against the door and the kids yelped. Time’s up. A few of them began crying, some were too shaken to move. Elsa and Merida shooed them towards the window, carrying kids where they had to.

“What’s in the school bags?” Elsa asked Ariel.

“Abandoned lunches!”

“Okay, grab as many of them as you can then!” 

Another crash at the door. With the window gone Anna could hear the sea of moans outside, too. She helped lift the kids up onto the window sill and made sure each was carrying at least two backpacks. Merida kept her rifle trained on the door, the thumpings growing in intensity and volume with each pass. They started scratching. If they broke through, Anna and Elsa could keep them where they were. Maybe. Would a horde be able to resist so many human children? It was impossible to say, and Anna wasn’t about to try.

A loud slam, and a crack appeared in the wood. The classroom echoed with the sound of scraping nails. Anna reached down and lifted Ellie, the last of them. 

“Wait, what about Mama!” She pushed against Anna’s grip.

“Your mom’s coming, Ellie, just get onto the roof, okay?” The girl sobbed but climbed through the window anyway. “That’s all of them. Let’s fucking go!” 

“Aye, ye fuckin’ cunts, wh’ couldn’t ye’ve stayed dead?” Merida said to the dead.

She and Elsa backed towards the window, guns ready. They reached the sill and leapt through. Anna stood alone in the classroom, just her and the horde. The door splintered in half with a crackle. A dozen arms shot through, grasping and tangling with the steel legs of the stacked classroom chairs. The moaning grew louder.

“Anna!”

She turned to see Elsa reaching through the window for her. Anna shook her head and took her sister’s hand. She pulled her through and then Anna was standing under the morning sun, staring up into a limitless blue sky. It would be perfect if not for the hordes of the undead eating away at the foundations of their city.

The roof was 15 feet across from the window. The kids were staying far away from the edge even though it put them up close to the compromised classroom. Anna stuck her head over the ledge to peer down. The entire horde was piling up against the wall, burying each other in an attempt to climb upwards and eat the children. Well, and Merida.

“Right, then,” Anna said. In the classroom behind her, the first of the zombies broke through the barricade. “Let’s go.”

Elsa nodded to her and they all took off across the roof to the other side of the building together. Merida shepherded the children after them and made sure no one tripped. There weren’t as many dead on the other side of the school. They had maybe a minute before that changed. Anna found a fire ladder leading to the street level and kicked it down. Get off the school first. She was improvising and hadn’t the slightest inkling of a plan other than keep running and don’t get bit. One look at her sister told Anna that Elsa was thinking the same thing.

“Alright, down we go!” Anna said.

“B-But that’s where the zombies are!” said Ellie.

“You’re safe as long as you’re with us! Now let’s go!” Anna grabbed the ladder and slid down first, ignoring the burns on her hands. She landed with a thud and pointed a finger at the nearest zombie. “Hey, fuckface! Your queens are here!” 

The zombie stopped. Looked to the sparse others around it. They hadn’t been paying attention to their moaning friends across the block. It considered. Then as a unit the zombies raised their hands and groped at the air above their heads. “QUEEEENS!” They shouted. Perfect.

The bulk of the hungry undead turned the corner of the building. They weren’t chanting, even as more zombies around Anna joined in the chorus. Shit.

Elsa finished climbing down the latter and nestled a hand in the small of Anna’s back. “Come one!” She called up to the roof. Anna overheard some scuffling and panicked cries from above.

Then, one after another, the children climbed down, stumbling and missing bars far more than they should have been. The zombies kept chanting. They continued even as the herd of kids in the street grew larger. If Anna had a pulse it would be going wild. When would the spell break? Would it break?

When they were all down Merida followed, half-sliding half-jumping down the ladder. “Great, now wha’ th’ fuck do w’ do?” 

The shamblers were closing in. A barrier of undead surrounded their party, chanting in their honor. Several kids clung to Anna’s legs and tried to hide their faces from the rotting monsters. All of them were shaking. Anna whipped around, searched for something, anything that might save them. A working car, a line of sight to an overpass.

“There, across the street!” Elsa pointed to an alleyway blocked by a chain link fence. It was partially hidden behind several dumpsters. Anna squinted but couldn’t see any zombies skulking about in the dark. It would have to do.

“Stay around me, kids!” Anna said, widening her stance.

Elsa swapped her rifle for Anna’s shotgun and fired four times into the growing crowd. Just enough zombies went down that they could push themselves by. Anna moved towards the opening as Elsa kicked the bloodied bodies out of the kids’ way. Zombies moved to fill in the space she’d left, maintaining the distance between themselves and their huddle on all sides. The zombies at the edge of the opening kept chanting despite the children waddling past their feet. Luck, unabashed luck. At least one of them ought to have died already. If things went south she could still get Elsa out, but she really didn’t want it to come to that. The guilt would haunt her forever. Anna glanced between two fetid heads and confirmed that the rest of the horde was still coming.

She picked up the pace. Merida brought up the rear. Elsa took care of any chanting zombies that strayed too close. Her clothes were covered in dark zombie sludge. The horde ignored their fallen members, uncaring. 

They reached the chain link fence just as the oncoming mass began mixing with the chanting zombies. The dumpsters would delay them at least. Anna found a padlock holding the mesh shut and shot the thing off its hinges. The door swung open. 

“Alright kids, in, in, in!” She counted their heads as they scampered into the alleyway. “Check your corners, now!” The kids who’d been carrying weapons went first, peeking around overflowing trash bins and loose cardboard boxes.

Elsa grabbed Merida by the wrist and shoved her past the fence as well. “That means you too!” Anna fell in beside her sister to cover her back, gun aimed back at the zombies. Merida staggered. The gate now stood between them, open, but the distance was widening with each passing second. 

“Wha? But wha’ ‘bout you?” Elsa tried to push Merida again but the bear of a woman stood her ground. “Hey, ar’ ye listenin’ t’ me? Elsa! Anna! Come ‘n!” 

We’ll hold them here,” Anna said, realizing as she said it what she had to do. “They won’t follow you if they’re too busy chanting.”

“Wha’ ‘bout the ones ‘t don’ chant?” 

Anna trained her aim on a zombie and blew its head off by way of replying. Merida glanced between them, somber. “Aye. Well.” She clapped them each on the back and nearly knocked Anna over. “Ye did good. Both of ye, wh’ever th’ fuck ye are. Be seein’ ye. And...thank ye.”

Elsa nodded. Anna found another target and downed it. The first of the hungry horde broke through the chanters and shambled towards them. Ellie came running back and tugged Merida’s pants. 

“Come on, Mama! We have to go!” 

“Aye, we do.” She scooped Ellie into her arms and looked at the sisters. “Don’ die, ye stinky fucks!” She slammed the steel gate shut, dropping the wall between them. A few quick strides and she was gone, vanished into the darkness of the alleyway with the rest of her miniature posse. It wasn’t even 11am yet. Anna would miss her. She didn’t think she would, initially. Stay alive, Highlander.

The shamblers closed in and formed a solid wall of fetid flesh. Elsa raised her gun. Dropped one. “We’ve got to push something heavy in front of the gate,” she said.

Anna marked her next target and fired. “If we’re still alive in two minutes then yes, let’s definitely do that.”

The chanting zombies were swallowed by the bulk of the rest. Drowned. The omnidirectional moan drowned out their cries. Ten meters. Eight meters. Anna bit the inside of her cheek and trained her sight on the closest foul beastie. Fired. Six meters. Mouths open, all of them, even the ones missing their lower jaws. Crying for the next meal.

They stopped at three meters. Halted in place. Looked at each other as if coming out of a transe. Anna cracked her neck, not daring yet to hope. “Alright, same shit as before!” She shouted at the quieting horde. “We’re the queens, don’t fuck with us!” She dropped another zombie for emphasis. 

With the horde quiet, contemplating, Anna could hear the birds chirping in the sky. Oh, she missed her horny woods cabin. “QUEEEENS?” One of the zombies moaned. More nonverbal discussion between them. A few sat down on the ground.

The cries of the first group of chanters carried across the crowd in the silence. “QUEEEENS! QUEEEENS!” It caught a few at a time and spread. It wasn’t long until the rest of the shamblers, even the ones that had been gung-ho on eating the children, took up the cry. A wall of worshippers.

Anna sighed in relief and lowered her gun. God she needed to lie down. She glanced at Elsa, but her sister’s brow was knitted with frustration and fear. “Do you think they’ll be okay?” She asked.

Anna frowned. Without her and Elsa around, the kids didn’t have an emergency measure. And with so many gremlins to rally what really were the odds of them all making it out? Slim, no doubt. But then again, what else were they supposed to do? “I don’t know.” She closed her eyes. “I hope so. Merida’s competent. Let’s keep the horde busy here for a bit and give them a head start.”

Elsa nodded. “Good idea.” She pointed at the sitting zombies. “They’ve got the right fucking idea, though.” 

Anna smirked and sat down on the cool pavement. The smoke was gone from the sky. Sitting next to zombies made her stomach churn, but she knew they wouldn’t, and more importantly couldn’t, actually hurt her. Now they just had to wait it out. To keep her hands busy she checked her backpack. Still in one piece, though a few of the buttons she had on the back were gone. Meddling kids and their thieving thief hands. She laughed when she found the paper bag masks.

After a while the rattling cacophony of the dead became just another sound of the city. The sun rose higher in the sky, and Anna saw a plane soaring far above. What would those passengers see if they looked down? She imagined it would look a lot like hell.

“You know,” Elsa said, speaking louder than normal to be heard over the chants, “I think we did alright.” She smiled, an unsure, creaky thing, and took Anna’s hand. 

Oh, how Anna wanted to protect that look. She leaned in and kissed her sister’s lips. “It wasn’t bad. Really should have remembered to wear the fucking paper bags, though. Again.”

Elsa grimaced and scratched the back of her head. “Yeah, that would have been good. Next time.”

“Next time?” 

“Oh come on, there’s definitely going to be a next time.”

“Yeah.”

The skin of the rotting dead baked in the sun. Bits and pieces sloughed off their bones and pooled at their feet. Somehow they never tired of chanting, even with vocal cords and lungs made of dead tissue. More eldritch voodoo bullshit. 

She’d rescued the kids from the school. Not one died. There was always the risk that running through the streets was more dangerous, sure, but leaving them to fend for themselves in that classroom would have been a death sentence. So she did okay, right? Made the right choices?

Anna’s training warred with her feelings. She’d put Elsa in danger; there was no getting around that fact. When she’d first entered the city nothing would have convinced her to dive into a horde of rotters to save civilians. But they did, damn them, and it felt good. It felt really fucking good. They’d helped people at no benefit to themselves and it made Anna’s heart glow with a strange warmth that seemed at once greater than herself, but also something that had already been there. It wasn’t a feeling she was used to.

“I liked this,” Anna said, and squeezed Elsa’s hand. “I liked helping these people, even if put us at risk.” The words felt antithetical to everything she’d been taught to do. That also felt good. 

Her sister smiled. “I’m glad. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

Anna waved her hand. “As if. You had those munchkins following you around the second you opened your mouth.” 

Elsa laughed. She pulled Anna into her lap, smooth as glass. Her thighs were soft and her arms felt comforting wrapped around Anna’s back. Oh, she felt warm. What would happen if they shagged in front of the zombies?

“I have an idea.”

“Oh?” Anna leaned in and kissed Elsa’s throat.

“It might be really stupid.”

“I love your stupid.”

Elsa sniggered and batted at Anna’s shoulder. “I think the kids sort of had the right idea. You saw their provisions, their password system. They were trying to get ready for the long haul.” Anna shivered. She didn’t want to think about that; they’d have been dead within the week, if not the day. “Maybe we could do something similar, but permanent. An organized colony in a safe location with everything people need. I mean, at least until the city is cleared out.” If it gets cleared out. Upon reflection, the situation was so much worse than Anna had originally imagined. How would they survive in the long run? 

But Elsa had a point, and the idea wasn’t bad. It was somewhere to start. “It’ll be easier to herd people to a safe place inside the city than try to get them all out,” said Anna.

“Exactly. And I’m thinking I know just the place.”

Of course; they probably thought up the perfect location at the exact same time. No matter where it was, though, Anna would follow her sister into hell.

It was time to go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheers to [Alex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gryffinwhor) for beta-ing this chapter! Huzzah!


	9. Scar Kills the World

Your name is Taka Pride, but you go by Scar. It’s cool, right? You don’t actually have any scars, but having a badass nickname makes you feel better about your shit legal name. Even when names don’t matter at all, like when the world is ending. No, then you suck up every confidence boost you can get.

You’ve been dodging zombies left and right in your mad race across the city. Running them over with your Hummer when you can and shooting the rest. Ones and twos, not many packs. It’d be fun if it wasn’t scary. The damn things are everywhere! It’s amazing how fast everything went down the shitter once God pulled the plunger. Hook shows up, turns into a zombie, and bam! They’re in the streets! They’re eating your operatives! After the hellfire that went down at Arendelle Manor you saw the cards for what they were and decided not to take any more dumb chances. Hans and Gothel can stay behind and rot if they like, but you? You’re smart. You’re getting the hell outta dodge. 

You took the Hummer as far as it would go with as much ammunition as you could carry. Wasn’t far, given the terrain. Abandoned vehicles littered the streets. People still screaming, carrying money, photo albums, infants. You paid them no mind and made the rest of your way to the edge of the city by doing what you’ve always done: shoving other, lesser fucks in the way of danger as you rise to the top.

You once shot a businessman and stole his glasses because you felt like it. Because you’re fucking Scar. You have connections for days.

And it almost worked. You almost made it out of the city looking hardly worse for wear. But then fate turned on you, the fickle bitch. Made you blind to the obvious. It was morning. Beautiful pink sky with a sun rising on a broken town. You’d stopped for a long, well-earned smoke break when one of the shamblefucks caught sight of your hiding place in a dumpster, the lid cracked for ventilation. 

You shot it through the eyes. Hoped that would be the end of it.

Nope. From the city’s nethers a wave of the fuckers appeared, slouching and moaning over each other in their slow-motion hurry to eat your fucking face. You shot a few more. Get the old blood pumping, right? But you knew it wouldn’t do shit the second you saw just how many you’d drawn in. All it took was one and the chain reaction began. Only, after 24 hours, there aren’t so many people wandering around that you can sacrifice to your righteous cause. No, they’ve hopped the fetid fence and they’re coming, oh lord they’re coming. You realize it’s been hours since you last saw another real human being. You gotta run.

Which you did until your lungs burned in your chest. The moans of the dead signaled more moans, more shamblers, until the bulk of the Main Street flock was closing in on you, slow but inevitable. There are only so many places to go. Underground? Swarming with dead. Climb up a building? You would never come down. You’re still running. If you could just get over the hill and past these rusty abandoned fucking cars! Fuck god, fuck your brother, fuck everyone who brought you to this time and this place! The world conspires against your genius! You’re running like a child from a stampede of sentient butcher shop meat. 

You gallop over the hill. Sun rays shine down from the sky onto the highway. There, not a quarter mile off! You can’t believe what you’re seeing; deliverance! Your heart swells with a chorus of angels.

A military outpost stands hastily erected before you and blocks an onramp leading out of the city. Smashed cars are shoved up against the guardrails to make way for the supply trucks. They’ve got tanks, soldiers, armored cars, the works. You almost trip as you start descending the hill. You could cry, but you don’t do that anymore. You lope over abandoned cars, weave between fallen luggage, and will yourself not to burst into song. You’re almost there, almost! The soldiers point fingers at you. Your saviors!

A team of soldiers carrying automatic weapons spews from a green tent like ants from an anthill. They line up, perfectly spaced, and kneel with their weapons pointed in your direction. Oh, no. No, no! You wave your arms in the air. Don’t they see you? You glance over your shoulder. 

It’s a mistake. You didn’t realize what you’ve done.

Hundreds--no, thousands--of zombies are spilling down the city street towards the army outpost. Slouching and moaning; stiff and inevitable. And god fucking damnit you led them right to the barricade. You consider for half a second that you may in fact have fucked up. Maybe.

You enter into shouting distance with the soldiers. “Hey, hey! Don’t shoot, I’m human, I’m human!” They ignore you. Why are they ignoring you?

Someone who looks like a commander shouts into a cell phone. The line of troops stiffen. You dive for the pavement just as they fire a barrage of shots over your head. You hear zombies begin to tumble behind you.

You’re so close. You can see the ramp, it’s right there! “You stupid fucks, I’m with the Arendelles!” You’re yelling your throat hoarse. “I’ll give you more money than God, just let me pass!” Steel hail flies over your head. The moan, oh the moan. It's like an opera of doom swimming across the Styx to consume you. 

The zombies aren’t dropping fast enough. After a minute or two of sustained fire the soldiers begin backpedaling, covering their retreat. Then they’re running, sprinting to a truck that will carry them to safety. But not you. Oh, who cares about you? Damn! When you turn around the dead are meters away and reaching for your tender legs. You scramble to your feet. If you can just reach the truck before it leaves! 

“Wait, please wait!” Your cries are drowned in a thundering kaboom. A tank round rips through the horde, shredding limbs from torsos like cheddar cheese. You glance up and watch the massive steel barrel find a new target. A second later your eardrums pound with sound as it fires and dust flies in every direction. Everything flies in every direction. Something, you’re not sure what, spears you through the thigh. You shriek and eat shit hard. No more running.

When you open your eyes you find a shard of glass the size of a paperback wedged five inches into your leg. Probably just missed an artery. Or hit it. You have no idea. Oh, and you were so, so close.

The dead shamble onward. The tank retreats, trailing after the truck of soldiers, and lays down suppressing shots on the miasma of moaning heads. Then they’re gone. It’s just you and the moan, and the world is dark and cruel. That’s why you were dark and cruel, wasn’t it? Not that it matters anymore. You pull yourself into a sitting position and flip off the zombies. 

They’re just shambling into grasping range when the airstrike comes and burns you to hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huzzah for [Alex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gryffinwhor) for beta-ing this chapter! Huzzah!


	10. The Queen's Speech

The ancient manor of Elsa's childhood grew out of a heavy fog. It was morning again, and Elsa paused to scan the Gothic spires and towering pines as she and her sister broke through the side streets and came upon the estate Ariel squeezed Elsa's free hand.

“That’s where you grew up?” She asked.

“Yeah,” said Elsa. She glanced at Anna, who held her shotgun tight. “In parts, anyways.”

Ariel ducked behind Elsa’s legs. Her head barely came up to the small of Elsa’s back. “It looks creepy.”

Elsa chuckled. “That’s because it is.”

Their journey across the city had been meandering. Hordes blocked the small streets while cars jammed the through ways. They had to climb walls, leap between buildings, and scramble under heaps of metal to even get close to home. Ariel showed up a few hours into the hike: she’d been hiding under an upside-down garbage bin when she saw the sisters in a ruined coffee shop and leapt into Elsa’s arms. Anna had nearly shot her. Sneaky little thing.

“We were attacked,” Ariel told the sisters in a barely audible voice. Elsa leaned in to listen. “Some of us didn’t get out. Ellie and her mom did but I don’t know where they are.” The girl looked pale and terrified. Not unreasonable responses given the situation.

Elsa expected Anna to object to the girl tagging along, but she didn’t, for which Elsa was thankful. It would have been an easy argument to say that keeping Ariel around put Elsa herself in danger, but Anna didn’t make a peep about it. So Ariel joined them. Their journey slowed to accommodate for the kid and they made sure she wasn’t picked off by the moaning zombies stumbling through the city streets.

Their walk continued up hills and across steel bridges. They hid at night and took off early. Found some biscuits in a busted up bakery for Ariel to eat. Zombies manned the counter, but they didn’t notice or care when Anna strolled up to the glass, smashed it, and grabbed a few. Bad business, really.

Ariel chowed down like she hadn’t eaten in weeks despite the outbreak being only days old. It definitely felt longer.

“So now that we’re here, what’s our plan?” Anna asked. She craned her neck to get a better look at the manor. It didn’t appear destroyed. Barely touched, if anything. “I doubt they’ll fall for the paper bags.”

Elsa grimaced. “Those paper bags haven’t helped us once and it's really bumming me out.”

“I know, right? And it was a genius idea, too.”

“I suppose the plan depends on who’s still alive.” If anyone at all had survived then there was a good chance at least one of her lieutenants was still kicking, too. A grim part of her hoped it wasn’t Hans. He was a useful tool, to be sure, but still a tool. Elsa wouldn’t have had too much issue shooting him before, but she needed everyone she could get for her plan to work.

She probably would have to shoot some people, though. These were her soldiers of the underworld, her dark ambassadors of murder, corruption, and fear. There could be any amount of resistance, especially once they realized she wasn’t human anymore. She’d trained them to fight tooth and nail, and if it came to blows, they’d come at her with everything they had. But, if she shot everyone, the plan would be a bust and she’d be back to square one. Elsa hoped it wouldn’t come to that since recruiting from scratch would cut into her proposed timeline. She might have to shoot one or two folks, and if the time came she wouldn’t hesitate. Elsa felt like she ought to have been more bothered by that fact.

The heavy iron manor gates materialized out of the mist like the teeth of hell. Boards, cars, and sheets of metal were piled up against them. Anna grumbled. “Well, someone’s still in there at least,” she said “I’m crossing my fingers it isn’t the Boogeyman.”

“What should I do?” Ariel asked them.

Anna offered the girl a warm smirk and reached over to ruffle her hair. “Whatever we tell you to do, squirt, and if we’re not around you duck and hide until we can find you again.” She winked. “You got it?”

Ariel nodded. She clung to the bloodstained fabric of Elsa’s pants. If the water still worked in the manor then by God Elsa was going to give the trembling girl a warm bath when everything was said and done. It ate at Elsa that if she fucked this up, Ariel would be alone again.

Anna clapped Elsa on the back and kissed her cheek, bringing her out of her thoughts. The serious look on Elsa’s face melted. “Okay but seriously, babe,” Anna said, “what should we do?”

The don took a deep breath. The weight of the title had never been heavier upon her shoulders. “Investigate,” she said. Elsa gestured to the wrought iron gates that her great-grandfather had hand-installed. “The main entrance was never going to be a good idea. Let’s circle the perimeter and see what we can find. Stay low, okay?”

“Right.”

The end began.

Elsa steeled her quaking nerves. The street surrounding the high manor fence was a slaughterhouse. Elsa stepped over downed zombies and dead civilians alike, their bodies piled three or four high in some places. Her people could still shoot amidst pants-shitting terror, at least. If the zombies kept coming they’d soon have a moat made of flesh. After Elsa, Anna, and Ariel passed their third pile of corpses, Anna let the girl scramble up onto her shoulders. Her shoes were soaked through with undead slime. Elsa took Anna’s bag.

“Are you sure you can shoot like that?” She asked.

Anna grinned. “Fucking watch me.”

It took them an hour to reach the back of the manor. There wasn’t a damn hole anywhere--no breach, no bent bars, nothing. Not even a box to climb onto. Their chances of being found out increased with each passing second, but they didn’t dare travel any faster. If it weren’t for the fog someone would no doubt already be trying to snipe them; Elsa had instructed them as much in the event of a siege. The smell of rot invaded Elsa’s lungs. She made sure to tie some cloth around Ariel’s mouth and nose to keep her from making displeased child noises.

“Thank you, corpse mother,” the girl said with reverence when Elsa was done.

Elsa choked on her spit. Anna descended into a full giggle fit. “Corpse mother? Wow, that’s good! Are we your moms now, kiddo?” She asked.

Ariel wiggled on Anna’s back. “I guess. My other moms died I think.” Her face scrunched up. “But aren’t you sisters, too? Can sisters also be moms?”

Elsa exchanged a glance with her sister. “Hell yeah we can,” she said with more triumph than she felt.

Ariel considered that. “Cool.”

Anna nuzzled up to Elsa and purred against her neck. She hiked Ariel higher up onto her back. “Look, Elsie, they grow up so fast.”

“Hush, you.”

“Make me, hot stuff.”

They hiked for another half-hour around the perimeter before they found a usable way in. Anna spotted it through a patch of parted fog: two iron bars bent just enough out of place that a small body might be able to fit through.

“Hey kid, you want to be useful?” Anna asked Ariel as she dug around in her backpack and withdrew a spool of rope. Ariel clenched her fists, her mouth shaped into a determined pout. “Attagirl. Crawl through.” The girl saluted the sisters and began working at the bars. Even with her tiny frame she had to expel the air from her lungs and wriggle to make it all the way. She tied the end of the rope to one of her shoes and the other to the fence bars themselves, then tossed the shoe over the ironwork. Anna caught it easily. “Good job!” Ariel grinned at the praise. “Now lie down on the ground over there, okay?” Anna pointed at a patch of grass a few feet off. Ariel did as she was told.

Elsa gave her sister the side-eye. “I didn’t know you were capable of such intense mom-feels, Anna.”

“What?” Anna looked incredulous. “That’s blatantly untrue. How many times have I called you mommy?” She grabbed her pack from Elsa as the don pinked and took hold of the rope. Tied it to the base of the fence and tugged at it.

Elsa’s face felt hot. “Not like that, dummy.” Anna pecked her cheek before vaulting up the iron bars. Elsa followed; she moved slower than her sister but just as sure. She had an idea of what Anna was doing: flirting always calmed Elsa down, and Elsa needed to be calm to pull off the mission. It made sense. Of course it also made Elsa growly and inspired a part of her to spend an hour with Anna behind some bushes, but she didn’t feed that thought for long.

They hit the grass and flattened against the ground, guns aimed in the general direction of the house. Their line of sight was blocked by trees, gardens and fog, which provided additional cover for both the sisters and their unsuspecting co-workers. Elsa stopped breathing and stilled.

They waited for five minutes. Elsa counted seconds to make sure it was long enough. Nothing came. When they shuffled into crouching positions Elsa gestured for Ariel to keep silent and use the hand gestures she’d taught her. The three of them advanced, checking their corners around trees and keeping to the foggier patches of lawn. Elsa’s undead nerves fizzled in her spine.

She spied Anna’s car garage off in the distance and felt a pang of nostalgia. Its red brick walls looked like her childhood. Whatever would happen to the Porshe? Elsa hoped some kid had picked it up and was running over zombies; they’d left the keys in the ignition specifically for such a purpose. It wouldn’t do them any good anymore.

She poked her head out from behind a rhododendron and scanned the unbroken manor windows for movement. Anna did the same from fifteen feet off to get a different angle. Ariel huddled in the bushes. The smell of rot lessened the closer they got to the building. A good sign.

There! In the second floor ballroom window! Elsa froze. A gaggle of shadows passed by, their movements too quick for the don to make out their identities. A guard patrol? She signaled the information to Anna.

When they were clear, Elsa darted for the side of the building and squashed herself flat against the paneling, her rifle cocked and ready to go. Anna and Ariel followed in quick succession. Elsa gestured towards the rear of the manor with her head and they were off again, sidling along the ancient wood with nary a sound. So far so good.

They reached the back patio and found it empty. Chairs were overturned and trash lay about, but there was no blood. Anna shuffled over to a rose bush and plucked the spare house key from the dirt. Their terrible security system had its advantages, really.

The back door was locked, as expected, but Anna worked it with the key in near silence until the metal clicked. Elsa blinked away the terror. Her hands shook. They were so close. She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes latching onto every violent shape she thought she could see in the fog. Ariel held her arm in a vice grip. The door to the rear lounge swung open.

Three guards were sprawled out in lazy chairs inside, biscuits in their hands and staring at Elsa’s party like they’d been just discussing stocks. Their guns laid in a pile on the coffee table.

“Hide!” Elsa hissed to Ariel, and the girl vanished.

“Holy fuck they’re here!” A guard in a pinstripe suit yelled. She leapt for her semi-auto machine gun. “Backup! Backup!” The others dropped their food.

No time to talk. Oh, Elsa wished they could have just talked. The sisters leapt into action, feet already in the door.

Anna hurled her backpack at the woman grabbing her machine gun. It hit her square in the head and she went down, toppling over two of the easy chairs. Elsa darted forward and bashed another guard’s knee with the butt of her rifle. He howled and hit the floor. She dropped her kneecap into his side and shoved the business end of her gun into his mouth. Held it there, eyes like daggers. He squealed. She had been ready, the guards weren’t; that was all it came down to.

When Elsa looked up again the last guard was already on the floor with Anna’s shotgun poking into her sternum. She was crying. “Oh god, please don’t eat me, please!” The one in the suit didn’t get back up.

Elsa regretted not knowing the names of everyone in her employ but a little distance did wonders when she had to beat up her own people. Kept her from slipping up. She ignored the pleading guards on the floor and glanced around for Ariel. She couldn’t find her; good.

The interior door burst open and four goons in suits stormed the room. Their guns trained on Elsa and Anna.

“Not another fucking step!” Elsa cried, her heart and soul sliding into her don persona. She had no choice, she’d told Anna before. As much as she didn’t want the power her father had given to her she would be a fool not to use it for good. “We’re not zombies, you fools!” The goons startled, clearly recognizing her voice and cadence. “Stand down!” The soldiers on the floor wriggled in panic.

“Why, as I live and breath,” said a raspy voice from the hallway. Oh, no. Elsa’s jaw tightened as The Boogeyman stepped into the lounge, a cigar between his fingers. “Is that you, Elsa?” A guttural laugh escaped his scarred lips. “Don’t fire, now,” he said to the mafia foot soldiers, “I want to hear this.” Casual as always. Anna swore under her breath.

The Boogeyman was a hold-over from her father’s old guard. A colorful assassin; a man gifted in the arts of torture and pain. He also had a terrible gambling addiction. Whenever Elsa needed someone gone or put in the stocks, she called The Boogeyman. Whenever a deadline loomed and a brusque CEO wouldn’t meet her demands, she called The Boogeyman. Terror of him ran fierce and cold through the entirety of her organization, a fact that Elsa from the old days had no problem exploiting. She’d never needed to torment any of her own employees using his talents, thankfully, but a little fear hadn’t hurt.

The guard under Elsa’s knee tried to speak but couldn’t get a word out around her rifle. She glanced down and uncorked it from his mouth. “O-Oh god, I’m so sorry, Ms. Arendelle, I had no idea it was you! Your z-zombie disguise is very good, please let me go! I’m loyal!”

She scowled. “Are you going to attack me again?”

“No, no! Never!” He shook his head and his eyes turned red. With a sigh Elsa unpinned him and stood up again. She heard Anna release her prisoner and get to her feet behind her. Covering her back. The woman on the ground still wasn’t moving.

“You, what’s your name?” Elsa said to the stuttering boy. He couldn’t have been older than 20.

“Uh, Kristoff!” He flinched in fear. “It’s Kristoff, ma’am!”

“Kristoff, please check on our unconscious friend over there. Make sure she’s alright.” He nodded and knelt beside her. Elsa turned back to her Boogeyman, a foul-looking fellow with a thousand scars criss-crossing his unsettling green eyes. He stared at her, amused. “It’s me, Oogie. I need a status update; I’ve been AWOL.” Knowing that Anna stood behind her looking as menacing as possible gave Elsa the rush of confidence she needed to slow down. Unhurried; powerful. She hadn’t expected to run into anyone so infamous so quickly.

“Oh, do you now? An update, huh?” The Boogeyman let out a howl of laughter and took a deep puff of his cigar. “Clearly you’ve been gone! I’m not sure I owe you an explanation, though.”

Elsa bristled. “What?” The goons flanking Oogie looked at him like he was mad. They wouldn’t be far off, really, though far from medically accurate. Anna cocked her shotgun.

“Oh, I don’t mean any disrespect Ms. Arendelle! I am ever loyal! It’s just that, well,” he craned his neck and pointed behind Elsa with his cigar, “I’m not sure you are who you say you are. And who’s that sweet darling you’ve got behind you? Isn’t that your dear, departed sister?”

Elsa didn’t dare let her anxiety show on her face. Oogie stared into her soul like he was daring her to object, daring her to play his game. She didn’t have time for fear. She was the don in that moment, not Elsa Arendelle.

“Oh, shit,” said Anna.

Oogie lit up. “Aha! That’s confirmation, then!” He shook his arms in a little dance and jabbed his cigar at Elsa’s chest. “So tell me why I should take you at your word, zombie, when you’re clearly with the bad guys? Trying to imitate Ms. Arendelle’s late lover? For shame, corpse plague!”

Kristoff looked up from his work, his face pale. The woman in the suit had fresh bandages on her face. “You mean that’s not make-up?” He whispered to himself.

Elsa ignored him. “It isn’t like you to disregard orders, Boogeyman.” The goons backed away, though Elsa couldn’t tell if they were doing it consciously. A thumping from above told her that more of her people were thundering to the rescue. She didn’t have time for this.

“Prove to me that you’re Elsa Arendelle, then, my employer and powerful master,” Oogie bowed as he spoke, “and I will gladly follow your every order.” His sneer could curdle milk. She had him.

Elsa shot Oogie in the knee.

His shriek could shatter glass. He went down, clutching himself with angry red fingers. His entourage kneeled to help him, their eyes swimming with fear. Anna took her cue and stepped up to Elsa’s side, her shotgun leveled at the interlopers. Ready to fire. If they were lucky, it would be the only time they would need to use fear as their weapon that day.

Footsteps closed in on the lounge. Elsa looked again at Kristoff. “Gather everyone still alive,” she ordered. “I want all of you in the ballroom in five minutes to settle this.”

-o-

The high vaulted marble ceilings and glass chandeliers of the Arendelle ballroom remained pristine even during the apocalypse.

“She’s returned, the don has returned!” Cries spread across the manor and soon everyone was abuzz. Bodies flew down stairwells with hesitant expressions on their faces. Only a select few essential watch guards remained at their posts on the manor roof. The Family population had dropped significantly since Elsa’s departure, though they were still in the double digits. Those that remained looked haggard and worn. Most had holes in their clothes, no one looked like they’d eaten well recently. The blow struck the don to her core. People she’d dined with, lived with, plotted with. Gone to seed in undead flesh. Her guilt welled like a fountain.

She was grateful at least that her influence and reign still held enough sway to keep herself and her sister alive long enough to reach the ballroom. They passed dirtied, bloodied folks in the hallways who looked ready to put their heads on pikes, as well as others who cowered at the very sight of them. They looked like the enemy, so it was to be expected.

“This was your fucking master stroke?” Anna said under her breath as the sisters strode towards the center of the expansive, lush chamber. Velvet red drapes hung over the windows. “We put ourselves on trial?”

It was a gamble. “If we put ourselves intentionally in a place of vulnerability they’ll let their guard down. They need to be receptive to our plan, otherwise we’re fucked anyway.”

Anna whined. It wasn’t a noise Elsa heard often outside the bedchamber. “Elsa, there’s a hundred of them, I can’t get them all before they get you!”

Elsa kissed her sister’s cheek in full view of her Family. Not one of them looked away. “I believe in you,” she said to her sister and squeezed her hand. “You’ve always kept me safe, that won’t change now.” She idly wondered about Ariel and hoped she was hiding somewhere warm.

The Arendelle sisters settled in the center of the ballroom, the Family insignia emblazoned on the carpet under their feet. They held their heads high, guns armed and ready. Their followers stood around them in a U-shape, leaving only the space behind them unguarded. A show of respect, however tentative it might be. Elsa met as many pairs of eyes as she could. People of all shapes, sizes, and colors filled the ranks of Agnarr Arendelle’s army. Some faces were new, some were old, but all of them knew first-hand that the old don’s legacy lived on in the ferocity of his daughters. It was the only thing keeping them alive.

Elsa’s pieces were in place. Her dice were ready to be thrown. All she could do was hope.

The crowd parted to let Gothel and Hans approach the sisters, pistols in their hands, expressions indignant. They stopped just far enough away to run if they had to. A murmur passed through the armed foot soldiers like a ripple.

Silence fell like heavy rain as the two sides sized each other up. A hundred mobsters left, and only two lieutenants amongst them. Two and a half counting Oogie. Leadership restructuring would have to be first on Elsa’s itinerary. After the victory sex with Anna, of course.

The don broke the silence first. “Gothel; Hans. I’m glad to see you unharmed. Is this everyone?” She scanned the mass of her followers.

Gothel nodded. “Yes,” she answered with ice, and glanced back and forth between Elsa and Anna. “Explain why I shouldn’t have you shot.” The crowd gasped and ebbed. Anna snarled and raised her shotgun an inch, but Gothel ignored her.

The don sighed and clasped her hands behind her back. “Because I am Elsa Arendelle, and you swore yourself to me after the death of my father, Agnarr Arendelle.”

“Liar!” Gothel stabbed the air with her gun, “you dare steal her Ladyship’s face and manner? You’re dead, you troll-witted fuck! How can you be Elsa? Or did you think we wouldn't notice?” She wrinkled her nose. Hans smirked but said nothing. Elsa noticed guns twitching in the hands of their spectators. No doubt some of them shared Gothel’s views despite the evidence to the contrary. She’d have to work fast.

“Hold on, now, good lady!” The Boogeyman rolled himself out of the crowd in a surprisingly goth wheelchair, his wounded knee bandaged up with gauze. Elsa sighed with relief. Her gamble was already paying off. “Can we take a second to consider? I don’t think you’ve got the right of it!”

“Oh?” Hans spoke up, his voice cool and pleasant. “They are clearly corpses. Are we to accept that a select few of the undead on our doorstep can retain consciousness when thousands have not?”

Anna snorted. “Lucky us,” she said.

“Silence, impostor!” Said Gothel.

Oogie chuckled. “Very valid concerns, my boy! But look at them!” He pointed, his smile crawling up his cheeks. “The way they hold themselves, the way they speak! Surely these are not things the plague would know, if it even “knows” anything at all!” Elsa could have hugged him if he didn’t scare her so much.

Gothel snarled. “You would vouch for them, Boogeyman? You, of all people?”

Elsa interrupted before they had the chance to argue any further. “You’re both right, in a way,” she said, then paused. Her soldiers of discord stared at her, expectant. “I would like to clear the air for everyone in this cherished Family,” she said to the ballroom at large. “Anna and I are dead. We died, both of us, and were returned to life by the same evil magic that brought the plague.” She didn’t dare admit that the plague was her fault. She couldn’t, not even to herself. The truth of it would break her and prevent her from doing any good for the world. “That magic came from a book, archived under 131.4, that once belonged to my father.” she glanced at Belle, the manor librarian. “If you check the shelves for it you’ll find the fake replacement I made before I took it.” Belle startled and dashed out of the ballroom. “The book killed me, but reanimated Anna and myself after feasting upon our hearts to power its plague magic.” Whispered conversations filled the chamber. The Family churned as it processed the secrets she’d revealed so casually.

“Fascinating,” said Hans. He’d known about Agnarr’s occult interests, of course. “Why did it bring your sister back? She was long dead.”

Elsa shrugged, biting back her anger. “I don’t know. Likely because I was grieving her as I read its pages.”

“Where is this book now?”

“We burned it to keep its secrets lost.”

“Of course. A very credible alibi.” The crowd went silent. Waited for Elsa to retaliate against his slight. Gothel stiffened, her hand tight on her pistol.

Elsa ignored them and went on. She could only hope that her sister did the same and wasn’t firing death glares at anyone who dared glance her way. “When Anna and I returned we were in shock. We left in her Porsche to lie low and consider our options. As you can see,” Elsa gestured to herself, “we couldn’t come walking back in through the front gate without a plan.” Murmurs of assent from the crowd. “It was in hiding that we heard about the plague and came rushing back.”

Hans scowled. “Why come back at all?” He asked, his eyes narrowing.

Elsa adjusted her posture. “To help. For the Family.”

“Aha! And that’s it, then!” Oogie cried. He slapped his good knee. “The loyalty to the Family, the resolve! Look at them!” He turned to Gothel, “I didn’t believe it at first either, didn’t want to! I’d already done my mourning. But when I demanded that Ms. Arendelle prove herself to me, she shot me through the knee! Even when she had every right to kill me! If that isn’t the spirit of dearly departed Agnarr I don’t know what is!” His joyous cackle filled the room like helium. Elsa allowed herself to smile slightly, a notch of her victory secured. “If I could kneel to you again I would, Lady Arendelle,” he gestured to his knee, “but rest assured I am still loyal.”

Elsa bowed to him, genuine and somber. When she rose she strolled forward--Gothel and Hans backed away--and held out her hand. Oogie shook firmly. “Thank you, Oogie,” she said, “your loyalty means everything to me.”

He bowed his head and released her hand. The crowd sounded relieved, even hopeful. They were coming around, slowly and surely. The Boogeyman turned his chair to face Anna. “Hey, kiddo,” he said, “it’s a delight to see you again.”

Anna curtseyed, the image of class and grace. “And you, Uncle.”

Elsa met the pensive gaze of her Family. She saw doubt, conviction, and relief in equal measures. The chandeliers flickered overhead, the generators working hard. It would take time, she knew. Not everyone in the family was aware of Agnarr’s more arcane interests. The very existence of dread magic would come as a shock.

Hans glared at Elsa with twitching cheeks. He looked about to turn purple and was no doubt planning his next move. Could he be turned to her cause? She wasn’t so sure.

Gothel stepped towards Elsa with shaking hands. Her eyes were disbelieving and pained. “It can’t be,” she said, “Elsa? Have you really returned to us?”

Elsa bowed again, exposing her neck before her lieutenant. “I have.” She gestured to Anna. “We have. And we’re here to right the wrong that we caused.”

“Bah,” Oogie said, “hardly your fault. A book that can raise the dead? Impossible? Agnarr shouldn’t have had the damn thing around anyways. Bad luck, I told him!” He pulled a cigar from his coat and lit up. Comfort from a serial killer, how quaint.

“I have to disagree,” Hans said and stepped forward. He clasped his hands in front of himself and walked around Oogie to stare Elsa in the eye. He’d found his angle. Elsa told him not to plot against her, but did he listen? A brilliant, stupid mind, that one. “You have the gall to cause the apocalypse and then you come back trying to play the white knights?” Angry conversation spread through the onlookers. Arguments threatened to become screaming matches. “You’re too late, even if you are legitimate! What can you do now?”

Elsa winced despite herself. She imagined Anna holding her and whispering assurances into her ear. “I know. We came as soon as we could.”

“But it wasn’t enough, was it?” Hans scowled. A few of the footmen in the audience raised their firearms while others chastised them for doing so, sparks flying between them. “Our organization is a shadow of what it once was! More people have died in the last few days than throughout the entire rest of our history!” He was right, really. More right than he could know. Elsa pushed against the guilt in her chest, afraid it might burst from her mouth as black tar.

“Hush, boy,” Gothel said. “Be wary of respect when speaking to your Lady.” Elsa waved her hand, excusing him. Oogie let out a low, booming laugh.

The ballroom doors crashed open. “It’s true!” Belle called as she dashed back inside. She waved Elsa’s fake book in the air. “The book really wasn’t there!” All eyes turned to her and she squeaked. Shrank. Elsa made eye contact with the nervous girl and nodded; Belle rejoined the crowd in hurried silence.

Hans scowled and let his arms fall to his sides. “What is your plan, then, Ms. Arendelle?” He asked with a flat bark. “You’ve brought the world to death’s door. What do you propose we do?”

Gothel, Hans, and Oogie looked at her with the same expectant watchfulness that marked the rest of her Family. She reached for Anna in her mind, held her close. Blinked. The Family watched her with an anticipation that could bleed and die it was so palpable.

“We stabilize. Organize ourselves back into working order.” The Family was haggard and badly hurt. “Consolidate. We forsake the world as lost for the time being while we collect ourselves.” Murmurs and cries from the onlookers.

“What about our agents afield?” Gothel asked.

“They’re dead.” The words hurt in her throat. “We mourn their memory and push forward.”

Gasps. Cursing. Oogie nodded and looked proud, which disturbed Elsa more than if he’d been angry. Gothel crossed her arms, her face twisted in thought. Doubts? It wasn’t like the Family to abandon their own, but what else could they do given the circumstances? They were all too far away.

Hans laughed. A big, gasping thing. Elsa imagined Anna was probably baring her teeth at that. “Marvelous. Ridiculous. And then what?”

Elsa cracked her neck. “We secure our borders, starting with this manor. Lock down patrols. Then once we’re ready we push out.” She made a grand gesture towards the outside with a wave of her arm. “We clear buildings and streets of the undead and absorb the new land into our territory.” She thought of Merida. “Anyone who’s still alive and uninfected we bring under our wing. Feed them, clothe them, teach them to shoot and follow orders. Put them to work. Everyone will be welcome under the Arendelle flag and will be kept safe.” Silence from the crowd. A pondering, inquisitive look from Gothel. Oogie puffed on his cigar.

Hans scoffed. Looked far too proud of himself, considering. “You really mean for the Arendelle Family to care for the masses? Help people? God, you weren’t kidding!” He threw his hands out to the side. “You want us to risk our lives and go out there to save random people instead of our own? We’re fucking criminals, Elsa!”

Gothel snorted. “The world is dead, Hans,” she said with contempt. “Who are we to extort now, to threaten?”

Hans looked at her like she was speaking a dead language. “We have to go after other survivors, obviously! We raid the land! It’s free fucking pickings out there, we could be kings!” Gothel held silent. Hans glanced at Oogie. “And you, Boogeyman! How are you okay with this? You don’t fucking help people, you’re the motherfucking God of Pain!”

Oogie snarled and Hans jolted back, tail between his legs. “I am sworn to Elsa Arendelle,” he said with rancorous pride, “and I shall follow her blood until it runs no more, per my agreement with her noble father. If this is the direction she sees fit to take us, then we walk the path, just as we always have.” He huffed and slumped in his chair. “It’s not like traditional crime will get us anywhere now.”

“But it will! Don’t you see that!”

Silence.

Hans whirled on Elsa, his face purple with fury. He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off, her hand held out as if to effortlessly stop an oncoming train.

“Silence, Hans. Think for a moment. This is the only way forward. The dead will fight us eternally and if we don’t push back against them; they’ll eat us alive. We need numbers, resources, land, and we’re not going to get any of that if we send out vulnerable raiding parties to die when we have so precious few. Anna and I are invisible to the dead; we can scout miles out without ever attracting their attention. We have the means not only to survive, but to thrive, means we lose the second we start killing everyone left out there.” Elsa stepped forward and offered Hans a low bow, though she did not take her eyes from him. He shook with rage. “You are my lieutenant, Hans. I value your input and would be very grateful if you lend me your skills and your support in these trying times.”

To his credit, Hans actually looked conflicted. Good. It would have been so easy to kill him, Elsa realized on her way to the ballroom earlier. So easy to rule again with fear and make an example of anyone who objected to her plan. But it wouldn’t work, not in the long run, and definitely not when the world had ended. It was why she didn’t kill Oogie, why she’d counted on his sense of honor to work in her favor. Why she felt validated in her actions. The old don Elsa would perish in the new world. To survive, to make a difference and do good, she’d have to transform herself and her entire Family with her.

And maybe at the end of the day the apocalypse wasn’t her fault. Maybe she was a stupid kid playing with a power she couldn’t possibly understand. But with the fate of humanity on the line, it really didn’t matter whose fault it was. The dead were eating the living anyway. She wouldn’t turn away and refuse to help when she had the power, the privilege, to make a difference in the unknowable future.

Hans lowered his head. “Fine,” he said. “Alright.” Elsa smiled, big and warm. That was it, then. She’d done it! For the first time since she entered the ballroom she glanced at Anna, who was beaming back at her.

Elsa heard the click of a gun.

Hans whipped out his pistol. “Now, my soldiers!” He cried.

The room cracked with noise. Elsa flinched, her arms covering her face. Anna appeared in front of her like a stalwart shield, but she needn’t have bothered.

Hans slumped to the ground with a hole in his skull. Gothel’s sidearm smoked, her gaze sure like ice. “Apologies for the scare, your Ladyship,” she said to Elsa.

Elsa crossed her arms across her chest and sighed as a part of her heart broke. “It’s alright, lieutenant. Thank you for your support.” Gothel nodded. There would always be those who just wanted it all for themselves. Elsa had been that person, in a way. Unwilling as she might have been, she’d still carried out her father’s legacy to unprecedented success. What she’d wanted meant nothing in the face of her results. Her hands were soaked in blood, and always would be.

Gothel and Oogie fell in at her side. Anna took her hand and squeezed. Together they faced the Family. Not one of them had moved when Hans shouted his war cry. Whatever coup he’d planned had died with him.

Elsa cleared her throat, difficult as that was given the antler clogging most of it. “I won’t ask which of you were sworn to Hans Westerguard,” she said, “because it doesn’t matter. You’re all off the hook. I would ask you now, what will you do? Will you kneel before me again as don and pledge yourselves to our survival? To those in need? Or will you risk the dangers of the outside and accept whatever else fate may have in store for you?” She made eye contact with as many scared faces as she could. “Choose wisely.”

The ballroom fell silent again. A small hand slipped into Elsa’s; she glanced down to see Ariel beaming up at her with straw sticking out of her hair. Anna ruffled the kid’s head as one by one the Family knelt before them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to [Alex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gryffinwhor) for beta-ing this chapter!


	11. Dawn of the Last of Us, the Resident Evil Dead

_-6 Months Later-_

Anna strolled through the cleared city street. Where there were once abandoned cars and bodies there remained only clean, open highway. It was a crisp winter afternoon devoid of snowfall, a small blessing. A stray zombie shambled past the Family members she had working to secure the new perimeter. Kristoff noticed it and whipped around, gun raised, panic in his eyes.

“Don’t worry,” Anna cried, cupping her hands to her mouth, “I got it!” She approached the shambler and caved in its skull with her sledgehammer. She wiped the end off with her goop towel. Her trusty shotgun hung from a strap over her shoulder.

Kristoff sighed in relief and waved a thank you, then went back to manning their improvised crane. Anna’s labor team was ahead of schedule that day, and ought to have the 5th and Northuldra intersection barricaded before nightfall. It was the last piece of the new wall left vulnerable. Once it was done, the second expansion would be complete and a party would be in order. The Family and the newcomers would get to crack open what few bottles of shitty beer remained to celebrate. It was good for moral, Elsa said.

Arendelle--Oogie had insisted on the naming of the settlement--would soon encompass every city street and building four blocks out from the manor in all directions, every fucking one of them clear of the dead and safe for resettlement. What streets they didn’t fill with tents would provide much needed extra space for farming.

Merida sauntered up to Anna’s right side, her hand-carved bow slung over her shoulders. She wore a fresh set of green army fatigues. “Oi, ye ladysh’p o’ Arendelle, ye got an’more business ‘ere or ca’ w’ head ‘ome?” She glanced around at the workers and stuck a finger in her nose.

Anna shrugged. The sight of her old zombie-hunting partner made her smile despite the cold. “Hey Gothel,” she called out, “you good or do you need us to stick around?” The lieutenant appeared from behind a rusted car with a broadsword made of scrap metal clenched in her grip. She sported a shaved head and had wrapped herself in a tunic made of sewn-together blankets.

She gave Anna the finger. 

“Yeah, we’re good.”

“Bitchin’.”

Anna and Merida made their way down the side streets towards the manor. Loose crates of supplies were stuffed into most of the buildings and Anna could see them through the windows. Dead grass poked up through the concrete, a hope for spring. 

“Say, what’s fo’ dinne’ t’night?” Merida asked as she checked her sidearm, “Ellie’s gettin’ tired o’ beans.” 

Anna gave her a look. “Pretty sure it’s beans.” 

Merida scoffed. “Sprin’ can’ come quick enough.” 

“Here fucking here.” The cold might not kill her, but holy shit, Anna was not a fan. Her undead flesh froze easier than most, the one downside of her condition that she’d been able to identify so far. She wasn’t sure what would happen if she ended up in a block of ice and she had no intention of finding out. 

Anna wished she could feed Merida and Ellie something other than canned baked beans. Hell, she wished she could feed Ariel, hell, everyone in the colony, a fucking warm steak. But food was scarce, as they knew it would be. They were rationing but she and Elsa still weren’t sure Arendelle would make it through the winter. They’d already lost a dozen folks to the chill, both Family and new acquisitions alike.

She passed workers going about their days, parents watching the community’s children, and Family soldiers armed with rifles and makeshift bludgeoning weapons. Nearly all the buildings taken during the first expansion were full of either people or supplies. It shocked Anna that she and her sister had managed to build a small town in just a handful of months. Being able to pick out infected from uninfected made a world of difference; there was just something about carriers that Anna and Elsa could smell on people. It allowed them to weed out the doomed.

The folks they’d saved from the bowels of the city, the newcomers, bowed to Anna as she passed through the streets like she was a princess. The corpse mothers, they’d started calling her and Elsa. The undying protectors. Anna figured the people could call her whatever they wanted so long as they could sleep at night.

Elsa spoke with a scout outside the iron manor gates, now cleared and held wide open by rope. She stood tall and proud in her three piece white suit, her white hair tied back into a braid. She was radiant. Her blue skin was crystal clear for everyone to see. God, Anna loved her. The very sight of her pumped red-hot feeling into Anna’s cold, undead heart. Ariel and Ellie stood quietly by Elsa’s side, waiting for her business to conclude.

“Thank you, Tiana,” Elsa said to the scout wearing cloaks and a motorcycle helmet. “Dismissed.” She looked somber. The recruit girl saluted and took off for other duties. “Oh, Anna!”

Anna and Merida reached the gate. Passerbys watched and whispered to themselves at the sight of the two corpse mothers together. So often were the sisters apart that it was a rare sight. “Mama!” Ellie cried. She leapt into Merida’s arms, a wide smile on her face.

“Aye, lassie,” Merida wrapped her daughter up into a huge, brawny hug. “Ha’ ye Auntie Elsa bee’ treatin’ you right?”

“Yeah!” Ellie pumped her fist. “Ariel and I got to play in the garden today with the other kids and make cardboard boats!” 

“Oho, ye workin’ ye way up ‘n th’ world!” Merida snickered and noogied Ellie’s head.

Ariel hopped forward and hugged Anna’s leg. “Welcome back, mother,” she said, her voice just above a whisper. Their little family was still getting used to the new titles, but oh how they felt good to Anna. Mother. Of all the new things to come of her undeath, she might have liked her daughter the most.

“Hey, wifey,” Elsa said. She pulled Anna into a hug, kissing both her cheeks before planting a quick one on her lips. “Everything okay at the perimeter?”

Anna giggled and resisted the urge to bite her sister’s lip before she pulled away. “Yeah, I think we’re gonna be locked down by the end of the day.” She set her sledgehammer down on the pavement with a thud. “Expansion 2.0 complete. Now we just have to party and seal the deal.” 

The don smiled. “Wonderful.” She glanced down at Ariel and pet her hair. “Isn’t that nice, sweetie? You’ll be able to leave the grounds again soon.” Ariel grinned and bounced on her toes. 

“Oi queenie,” Merida said, “scouts ha’ an’thing new?” 

Elsa face scrunched up. Anna moved closer and laid a reassuring hand on her sister’s shoulder. Ariel hugged both their sets of legs and pulled them closer. “What is it, baby?” Anna asked.

The don sighed. “Our long-distance scouting parties came back.” She shook her head. “No casualties.”

“What? But that’s great news!” Merida nodded in assent. They’d sent people out to the edges of the city after the first expansion on Gothel’s insistence. They were running low on food and needed to start bringing consumables back with the people they were rescuing. Regain a lay of the land.

“Yes, but it’s what they found that worries me. Or didn’t, as the case may be.” She chewed her lip. “The military blockades are down. All of them. They have been for months.”

Anna grimaced. “We expected that.” Ariel shivered from between their legs. Anna rubbed the girl’s head.

“Aye, tha’s nothin’ new, ye Ladysh’p.” Merida bounced Ellie in her arms. “Ye read’ for bean dinner, lil’ lassie?”

“Ugh, beans again?” 

I don’ make the rules, ta’e it u’ with th’ queenies.” Merida gestured to the corpse mothers with a smile. Anna made a face at Ellie and gasped and hid behind Merida’s head.

Elsa rubbed her shoulder. “It’s still distressing,” she said. “Beyond every one of those overrun barricades, the world looks the same as it does here.” Elsa glanced at Merida and Ellie, at the people passing by who bowed in her presence. The responsibility she’d taken on. “I said to assume the world was dead, but I think we may have just confirmed it. That’s different than speculation, you know?”

Anna thought about that. “Yeah.” 

She exchanged a look with Merida. Looked down at her own daughter. She sighed for emphasis and leaned in to kiss Elsa’s cheek. Elsa had a perchance for getting caught up in the messy details; it was Anna’s job as her sister, her partner, and her lover to keep her from spiraling. “Does this actually change anything in the here and now?” 

Elsa shook her head. Anna imagined the torrent of doubts and insecurities that she must have been feeling. “No. No, I guess not.” 

“Then we just keep going, one foot in front of another. Right?” She made it sound easy. She had to sometimes, even if it was never going to be easy. Every day was just another step. Another challenge in the quest to stay alive.

Elsa offered Anna a smile. “Yes, you’re right. Sorry.” 

Anna snickered and pinched Elsa’s rear. The don yelped in a very undignified manner and the girls descended into laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank to [Alex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gryffinwhor) for beta-ing this chapter!


	12. Final Epilogue

A figure of light floated in the ether and watched. Thousands of unknowable colors swirled around them and danced before, behind, and through their many eyes, seen and unseen, to a lullaby unheard. The music of death. Sixteen wings of burning white fire flapped around them like an undulating cocoon.

They smiled to themself, bemused. The Arendelle sisters were doing well. Still alive, the both of them, despite the unlikelihood of it. The girls’ passion for life invigorated the figure, inspired them. Long eons had passed since any mortal managed to cause an extinction, a global transformation, matter into energy, with the figure of light’s grimoire, much less stave off death another day. And to keep going afterwards in the face of despair? Well.

The figure decided it would watch the sisters closer from then on.

“Good job, little dearies,” they said. “Good job.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And holy crap that's it!! Thanks so much to [Alex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gryffinwhor) and [Cani](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanITellUSmThin) for the generous work they did in beta-ing this fic for me.
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this one! I gave myself the goal of finishing all my unfinished Frozen fics before Frozen 2 comes out in a little less than two weeks, and gosh darn it I did it! Ha-ha!
> 
> Thanks so much for reading another supernatural goth Elsanna fic from me, I just love making the girls into demons and werewolves and whatnot. Its quite fun. I'm gonna hold off on writing any more Elsanna until I see Frozen 2, but after that? Likely sooooo much more fic. 
> 
> Cheers!


End file.
